Without Direction
by Neomeneomine
Summary: After the Narada, those in power are faced with a sluggish Reconstruction and a scared public. Political chaos ensues, and and unsuspecting Kirk is caught in the middle. No pairings, but read in whatever you feel like. Rated for language.
1. Membership Review

A/N: This is the bastard offspring of a politics wonk and a StarTrek fan. I overheard my Mom, who's on my town's school board, talking about the latest drama with the site council board, and quickly scribbled it down.

Terra/Terran: Earth/Earthen; Andorian: species known for a corrupt government, a dislike of Vulcans, and being emotional; regs: regulations.

Warning: This is a political drama. Language. Pre KS or K&S.

This has been rewritten, so if you are reading this again, some parts of the story may be new or deleted.

.bdobd.

James T. Kirk, Captain of the Starfleet flagship USS _Enterprise_, NCC 1701, was not feeling particularly captainly at the moment. Winona Kirk had only just discovered her maternal streak, and Jim had a hard time coping with the sudden change.

"Mom, why _now _of all times? You haven't worked in what, seventeen years? Eighteen? You'll be expected to-"

"To adapt, just like everyone else." One blond eyebrow rose dangerously, "Are you saying I can't do it?"

"NO!" Jim yelped, backtracking furiously, if anything motivated a Kirk, it was a challenge, "I'm saying that the seniority rule is being really pushed right now, you won't be able to get anything good-"

Winona interrupted with surprise, "Haven't you heard? Starbase XI's administration has gone to the dogs. I'll be fine."

There was a pause as Jim waited for more information. "… Annd?"

Winona rolled her eyes, as if he was being intentionally obtuse. "All of the highest positions were just opened. Those idiots can't agree on a replicator setting nowadays, what with the Admiralty in charge."

Jim blinked. "The Admiralty? Why're they in charge of a Starbase, that's not their job."

"No one else wants to do it, even with the 41 Beta thing making it High Priority. It's all paperwork. Last I heard Councilwoman Tishri was being commandeered to coerce some poor saps into taking the job."

"I thought we weren't accepting any more planet applications until the Recovery is done."

"Yeah, well." Winona shrugged. "41 Beta's different. They have some recourses that we want. And the application won't take long; it's more a formality."

"But still, to accept another planet into the Federation now, when there aren't even enough houses for the Vulcans yet –,"

"Hey, I'm not saying it's a good idea. Just that it's happening. And Tishri's in charge; things will move quickly."

Another blink. "Tishri? The Andorians just finished voting _yesterday_, couldn't they've waited 'til after the elections?"

Winona rolled her eyes. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But whatever she's been saying, it must be working: Leighton's already signed on a Second chair."

Jim perked up, "Leighton? Thomas Leighton?"

"The very one."

"Huh."

"I know, right?" She leaned closer to her comm screen, as if someone was going to try and eavesdrop on the flagship captain's private frequencies, "But it's _Tishri_ that's the real question._ Why_ would the President approve her transfer?"

Jim waited for her to answer her hypothetical question.

"It's that she's too good a politician!" Winona crowed. She leaned back in her chair and looked pleased with her deductive skills.

He raised an eyebrow. Or, tried to. Spock was much better at it than Jim was. "She's so good that they're making her leave."

"President Thkahn's party is coming into power, and Tishri's in the opposition's camp. He can't afford to let her hang around and remind the population what they're abandoning."

"So he's making her leave."

"No, she asked to go and he acquiesced." Jim opened his mouth to respond, but Winona cut him off. "It means the same thing, though," she assured him.

"Wait." Jim stared hard at the blank wall above the screen. "If she's running for Council, how can she be on Base XI? Isn't that conflict of interest? She can't do what's best for the Council and the Base at the same time."

Winona shook her head sadly, "Those last polls they ran must've been brutal. She wouldn't have taken the position in she thought she could win."

"So she's using the Base as a fallback position? Damn. She's been in office, what, thirty years?"

"More than that. You were born in '33, she was elected in... '24? I think?"

"Thirty-five years, then."

"Long time, that's for sure." Winona was contemplative. "It's really a shame. She's not really… Well, it's not like she's _nice_, but –,"

Jim snorted at the unflatteringly accurate characterization. Before being sent off to Tarsus Jim had been forced to accompany his mother on a variety of diplomatic excursions: lots of travel from Iowa to San Francisco. One of the more disastrous events included the senior Andorian councilwoman, a punch bowl, and a remote-controlled plane smuggled into the high-end hotel by one incredibly determined Jim Kirk.

Winona shook herself out of her daze. "Listen, I've gotta go. Your brother's coming over for supper and I need to put the chicken in the oven."

"Tell him I said hi. And don't let him shut the door on his hand again; he _always_ does that."

She snorted. "Will do. G'bye sweetheart."

"Bye Mom."

"Kirk out."

"Kirk out."

The connection cut, and Jim was left facing the black screen. Before her husband had died, Winona Kirk had been a political juggernaut. After the destruction of the _Kelvin_, the family had officially retired to Iowa, with the exception of Mrs. Kirk. She'd spent months out in space, leaving her sons alone with Frank. And when she wasn't in space, she was doing odd jobs for Starfleet that usually involved her, San Francisco, and a really nice dress. After the euphemistically titled 'Corvette Thing', she had retired from Starfleet. It seemed like she'd finally tired of that life.

Jim sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. A Kirk on a mission. Now _that _was a scary thought.

.bdobd.

In Commander Spock's quarters across the hall, the hybrid was demonstrating that Vulcans could, contrary to popular belief, get snippy.

"I fail to recognize the benefits of having the head of the Admiralty stationed on Starbase XI."

Pike sighed. "Honestly? I don't get it either."

"Then introduce a motion to have him ordered back to Terra. It is a simple procedure, do you require instruction on how to proceed?"

If anyone other than Spock had said that, that person would've been reported immediately. "No, I know how to do it just fine." Pike mock-glared at Spock. "I _have_ been in the 'Fleet longer than you have."

"However, you have a human memory."

"Oh, and that counts for an extra few decades of field experience?"

"No. But it does 'count' for an extra few decades of tactical paperwork."

Pike snorted, then sighed. "Barnett will be _pissed_."

"Commodore Barnett would eventually see reason. He has not shown a predisposition towards holding grudges."

"Yeah, I know."

The Vulcan's tone softened almost imperceptibly. "The hardest part of any endeavor is the decision to undertake it."

The Admiral smiled. "I know. Thank you for the advice."

"Of course, sir. How has Starfleet's recruitment attempts been proceeding? Successfully, I have been assuming."

Pike smirked, "Beyond our wildest dreams. So much so that we're running out of lower-level positions to fill: all of the ones left are those that require passing a grade 3 physical."

Spock recalled the latest employment rosters. "All those except the positions on Starbase XI, correct?"

The human nodded. "They're the only openings left; if it weren't for the recommendations system we'd be swamped with applications." He gave a cold smile. "Nothing like a crisis to boost patriotism."

The commander nodded once. "Indeed. It is a phenomenon common in most species. Who has been charged with recommending the positions?"

"Tishri."

The Vulcan looked almost concerned. "The Andorian election cycle is not yet complete. With no one on the Administrative Board to veto her decisions, she has almost total control over the composition of the Board. Can she be trusted to make unbiased recommendations under those circumstances?"

"Yes." Pike had turned stern, "Just because she's Andorian doesn't mean she's that easily corrupted."

Spock bowed his head in deference, "I apologize for any perceived slight against the councilwoman."

Pike sighed. "Former councilwoman."

Black eyebrows flew up, "I did not know the votes had been processed so quickly."

"The polls were pretty clear. It was a 60-40 split against her, at least, there's no way she could've won."

The eyebrows furrowed now, "Has she proven herself to be deficient in some way? The former Councilwoman had enjoyed a great popularity on her home planet."

Pike shook his head, "It's all the Fed's fault. No one from a high position came to her convention except for Thomas Leighton."

An eyebrow rose. "Former governor Leighton? I was not aware that he constituted one of the 'higher ups'."

"Well, he doesn't, technically. But he's been really good to the Vulcan colonists, he got a lot of publicity for that."

Spock looked almost-insulted on the behalf of his now endangered species. "Is it not a Terran principle that charity is its own reward?"

Pike shrugged. "Yes, well. Humans rarely live up to their own standards."

"Few species do."

"True." Pike glanced down at something on his desk to his left. "Oh, shit. The Zedakitian diplomats are having a meeting in five minutes, I've gotta go play mediator."

Spock blinked. "Who are the Zedakitians?"

Pike glanced up distractedly from his desk, "Natives of the planet 41 Beta, in the Lorentian system. They're being reviewed for membership."

"Who is reviewing them? The Admiralty is far too busy for overseeing planetary applications."

The Admiral was now furiously scrolling through a PADD, "We are. That's why Base XI's doing it."

The Vulcan seemed almost-scandalized, "The only Starbase without a full staff in the one chosen for the oversight of a membership application?"

"Hey, it wasn't my idea."

"How can the Federation Council expect an efficient review process with an incomplete oversight staff?"

"Every other Base had former councilpeople at high position in the administration. The Council was afraid they'd be lobbied by their friends to vote one way or another."

"That would be extremely illegal."

"Happens all the time. At least they recognized that and tried to prepare for it. 'S more than what they usually do."

"But the former Councilperson Tishri –,"

"Is going to be recommending the chairs. It's an issue. But at least that's not an _official_ position, and the President recommended her for it, so it's not like they could refuse."

"The President of what?"

"Andoria. President Thkahn."

"Did he specify and particular reason why Tishri should get the position?"

Pike was now stuffing PADDs into a small bag, "Look, I've really got to go, I'm gonna be late."

The Commander bowed his head again. "Of course Admiral, I apologize for delaying you."

"Anytime. Talk to you later."

"Likewise."

"Pike out."

"Spock out."

The Commander sat quietly as the connection cut, digesting all of the pertinent information. A new planet had applied for membership, and, instead of utilizing the perfectly viable explanation that the Federation was undergoing a massive recovery effort, the Council had decided to give application oversight authority to the only Starbase without a full staff.

Sometime, the irrationality of foreign beings could be extremely exasperating.

Spock let out a little half-sigh and stood slowly. It was impossible to improve any situation by remaining in his quarters. He exited and was met with a clearly agitated Captain Kirk. Clearly to Spock, at least.

"Captain."

Kirk, who had been facing the lock pad on his door, whirled to face his first officer. Inexplicably, he brightened.

"Spock! How are you?"

The Vulcan blinked in confusion. What explanation was there for this sudden shift in mood?

The blond appeared concerned, "If you don't want to answer, it's ok."

The captain was the second human Spock had ever met who could differentiate between hesitation and arrogance. It would be unwise to forget this fact again. "I am physically and mentally sound."

The captain smiled slightly, "That's good. What're you doing here? It's not your shift."

"It is not your shift, either."

"True. But I've been known to wander. You always seem to have a destination in mind."

"I was on my way to the botanical labs to oversee the genetic experiments Lieutenant Sulu is to head on the recovered Vulcan cacti." It was not his predetermined destination, but no negative effects could be foreseen from his observation.

"Do you mind if I tag along? I don't have anything better to do." An odd request. The Captain had not shown any previous interest in xenobotany.

"I will not be negatively impacted by your presence."

"Excellent!"

The two men entered the nearest turbolift. "Deck H," Spock stated.

The captain seemed to sink backwards into the wall of the lift. An illogical observation, all turbolifts were built to code. Meditation was in order.

"Captain." The commander was looking contemplatively at the human, "You are distressed." It was not a question.

The human shifted, "It's Jim," he replied, "and no, not _distressed_. Just..." He trailed off.

Spock turned to fully face the Captain – Jim – fully. "Is there any assistance I could offer?"

"Nah. I'm good."

The commander cocked his head. He seemed almost-considering. "It is a common Terran practice to speak of negative events to those trusted. I have never tested its validity."

The capt – Jim smiled slightly. "Only to test the validity of the practice, of course."

"Of course. Anything else would be," Spock made sure to complete the ritual pause, "illogical."

The – Jim grinned widely, in accordance to custom. Why this particular phase amused him so was unknown, and clearly irrational, but was a comfortably predictable feature in an otherwise totally sporadic being.

"Well, in the interest of testing the hypothesis," the human started slowly, "my mother called me and told me she was looking for work."

The lift doors opened, and the two men exited. Spock made sure to turn away from the botanical labs: he wanted clarification. "So she's joining the Fleet after almost two decades of being unemployed, and can't see why this could possibly go wrong. She doesn't know any of the new regulations, but is going around asking for high-level diplomatic positions, things like base chairs."

The – Jim's voice was rising in agitation. Spock broke in, "Starbase chairs? Is she looking for a position inside Starbase XI?"

Jim blinked. "Well, yeah. Actually. How'd you know?" They turned the corner and entered an empty rec room. Jim shot Spock a look, "These don't look like the botany labs."

Spock bowed his head, "I took the liberty of directing us to a more quiet section of the ship. The probability of the continuation of our discussion inside of the labs was slim."

The human blinked again. "Oh. Alright then." He furrowed his eyebrows, "What was I saying? Oh, right," he turned back to the Vulcan. "How'd you know about Base XI?"

"I had just completed a discussion with Admiral Pike when I encountered you in the hallway. He informed me that the only positions left inside Starfleet that do not require the successful completion of a grade 3 physical were the Starbase chair positions. If your mother is seeking employment, then she may have no alternative to applying for the chairs."

Blue eyes widened. "The _only _ones?"

Spock nodded. "The only ones."

"Fuck, I'd hoped she was exaggerating." Jim flopped gracelessly upon a blue couch and sprawled possessively across it. It was oddly reminiscent of his pose in the captain's chair. The commander sat neatly on the opposite couch.

"With the recommendations system, your mother does not have a very good chance of getting a chair."

"Yeah, there is. She knows Tishri personally, they worked on the Europa Convention of Sentient Species on the Craft Possession Agreements."

Spock's eyebrow rose, "The Europa Convention was one of the most successful conventions of contemporary Federation history."

"Mom was a great politician, but she was at home year-round by the time I was eleven."

"Even if your mother knows Tishri personally, her resume will have to be approved by others on the Board of Employee Affairs and by the Admiralty."

The members of the Board of Employee Affairs were unofficially known as Satan'. While Spock did not agree with the label, he could understand the reasoning behind it. The Board dissected all resumes submitted to high-level positons. Spock's application for a professorship in the Academy was analyzed for eight hours. The Board members took shifts. Spock was not allowed to do so.

"The Admirals are too busy to look too close at anyone's resume any more, especially anyone who worked on a Convention, no matter how long ago it was. And there's practically no one on the Board anymore, after the _Narada_. They all cried off to go serve on ships. Tom Leighton's the only one left on it, and I know that he hates that job. There was that press conference on Q."

That particular interview was infamous. Thomas Leighton was still the governor of Planet Q, and made several derogatory comments about the government of the planet and the larger Federation system. He was not reelected after the tape was aired on public holovision.

Spock was surprised by Jim's casual reference to Leighton, "Do you know former governor Leighton personally?"

"Yep. He did me a favor a while back, I owe him a boon."

The Commander blinked. "I am unfamiliar with that term."

"A boon? Umm..." the human looked to the ceiling, as if the answer to Spock's query were written on the metallic panels, "A boon is a debt, a big one, that you repay with a favor of equal magnitude."

The blond seemed oddly smug after this statement. One black eyebrow rose. Jim caught the expression and grinned. "I've never been able to use that word in a sentence."

"Which word are you speaking of?"

"Magnitude."

"Interesting."

Jim looked back up at the ceiling. "Indeed." His brow furrowed, "What do you know about Tishri?"

"She is a the former senior Andorian member of the Federation Council. She enjoyed –"

"Wait, former? It's done; she's out?"

"Admiral Pike said that polling done before the votes were cast were 40/60 against her."

"_A twenty point gap? _But she's been great for Andoria!"

"Apparently the absence of all but one high-level Federation representative at her convention negatively impacted her poll numbers."

"Yeah, Mom told me. Wasn't it –?"

"Thomas Leighton."

"And he's not even in office," Jim muttered. "Who'd the new Councilperson?"

"I do not know."

The captain seemed unsettled, "Will such a result negatively impact you personally?" Spock asked.

"No, not really," Jim sighed. "I just wasn't expecting it, I guess. Tishri's been in office longer than I've been alive."

There was a compatible silence. Spock broke it first.

"Do you have an opinion on Planet 41 Beta and the Zedakitians?"

Jim sent him a befuddled look, "The what?"

"There is a planet under membership review, Planet 41 Beta, that is populated by a group named the Zedakitians."

"Oh, that's their name."

Spock waited for additional information that was not forthcoming. "Did you hear of 41 Beta from your mother?"

"Yeah. I still don't know why they're bothering with the review, though. Its seems like such a _waste_. I hadn't even _heard _of it until about a week ago. I don't even know where the thing is!"

"It is located somewhere within the Lorentian system."

"Oh." Jim relaxed again, "That explains it."

Spock looked almost-confused, "How does the planet's location effect its membership status?"

"Well, it doesn't, technically, but the Lorentian system's become the Fed's parking lot, and it's not fully Federation. There are little planets scattered throughout that still belong to the Cardassian Empire. But the Cardassians aren't _technically _allowed to fly in our space, so those planets are totally cut off from their supply shipments. That pissed off the natives, who wanted food, and they've been taking potshots at passing ships. Usually the Empire stops it pretty quickly, but lately they've been quiet. And with so few Federation ships to begin with..."

"What is the Cardassian Empire's opinion in its members becoming members of the Federation?"

"No one really knows for sure, but it's been happening for years now and they haven't said a thing."

"What do you know of the actual composition of the Starbase XI's head administrative board?"

Jim seemed unphased by the sudden topic change, one of the few humans who did. "Not much. Tom Leighton's the second chair, and Mom's not on the board. Neither's Tishri: she can't recommend herself."

Spock cast about for another topic. "What is your opinion on the Federation Council as a whole?"

Jim easily adjusted to the switch. "Scared. Anxious. They're stressing the Admiralty with the planet thing, so they must be trying to throw their weight around. Why?"

"…I desired to change the subject of our discussion, as it seemed to be drawing to a close."

Blue eyes blinked, "Oh. Ok." Jim was clearly at a loss. His eyes flickered about the predominantly empty room until lighting on a 3-dimensional chess board. "Play you. I'll be black, give you a head start."

.bdobd.


	2. Patriots and Andorians

A/N:

Rewritten.

.bdobd.

The sound that Jim made when he remembered that he had wanted to call Leighton was caught on the security cameras and saved by the security team for use as valuable blackmail material. The captain insisted that it was a wild tribble who'd made the high-pitched squeak, but he didn't convince anyone – though they gave him points for trying.

Jim gave Spock the conn and ran back to his quarters, calling up Tom's old comm number.

The face that appeared on the holoscreen was that of a man who'd clearly put his best years behind him. The Kodos Genocide had prematurely lined the brunette's face – or 'weathered' it, as he preferred – and the eyepatch that covered the left half of his face didn't really help his profile. He'd had used this to his advantage in his last successful campaign, 'given all for his government,' or some similar BS.

Jim had tried to call him on this, but Leighton had shrugged and pointed out that if anyone was going to use his face for or against him, it was going to be him, damnit. It wouldn't do to have his opponent using the patch in commercials that made sly connections between _most_ politicians and demons, but not exactly the politician that looks sort of demonic, you understand, because that would be uncouth, but sort of a lot of them.

There were very many and very few ways to respond to this. Jim hadn't, and they had continued discussing the benefits of eucalyptus in peace.

Leighton's good eye widened. "Kirk? Jim Kirk? Is that you?"

The blond laughed. "No Tom, it's Gav. Of course it's me, you idiot; who'd you think I was?"

"One of those damned reporters." He sounded rueful. "They've been hounding me ever since Tishri lost."

"Yeah, I heard. I can't believe she's out; she's been there for years."

Tom seemed taken aback. He'd clearly meant this to as a big revelation, and had to work quickly to recover from being seriously out-cooled. "Um, yeah… How'd you, um, know?"

"Spock. He's a gossip."

"Is he really?" Tom grinned happily. "That's hilarious."

"You have no idea," Jim beamed. "So," he leaned forward, "what's all this about Starbase XI?"

Tom's lips twitched. "No small talk for the captain now, huh?"

Jim spluttered indignantly. "I gave you _plenty_ of cannon fodder! Now spill."

Tom snorted. "First of all, how the _hell _do you know about the base chair? It hasn't been announced!"

"Mom."

"Christ." Tom shook his head, "I should've known. It's not that big a deal, really, Barnett and I are going to be the First and Second chair of the-"

"_BARNETT?_" Kirk planted his hands flat on his desk. "Commodore Barnett? _That _Barnett?"

The older man blinked, "Well yeah, he's the First chair."

"What the _fuck?_"

Leighton blinked. "What's with that voice? It's not that bad. It's a job –,"

Kirk wasn't finished. "What the _fucking hell _is that idiot _thinking_? The Admiralty's nearly dead from exhaustion, the Reconstruction's going slowly, and the fucking _Commodore _is going off to play head secretary for a fucking Starbase? I can't believe-"

"For god's sakes, it's not that big a deal-!"

"It's a _huge _deal-!"

"He had his reasons, just like I had mine."

Kirk was still seething. "Who's Third chair?" he ground out.

"No one yet, but I'll bet it's not Arya."

"Who?"

"Arya, she was Tishri's campaign manager."

Jim raised an eyebrow sarcastically. "Yeah, well _she's_ not very good at her job, now is she?"

"Well, yeah. But_ usually _she's pretty good. She knows the Fed regs backwards, for Christ's sakes, but she can't seem to get elected. It looks like she can campaign for anyone but herself."

Jim winced sympathetically. "Ouch. That must bite."

"Yeah, no kidding."

A woman's voice came from Leighton's end. "Sir, you have a call on the public line."

Tom looked back at the sound, "Thanks, I'll take it in a sec, "and turned back to Kirk. "Sorry Jim, gotta go."

"'S fine. Nice talking to you."

"You too. See ya later."

"Bye. Good luck, by the way."

Tom grinned. "Thanks, Jim. Leighton out."

"Kirk out."

The screen went blue, then disappeared. Jim stood, stretched, and left his quarters. He really _should_ be on the bridge.

.bdobd.

The next day, the _Enterprise_ was ordered to attend a diplomatic function on Planet 41 Beta, which was almost embarrassingly unusual. The flagship was, under most circumstances, the most often assigned to these sorts of things.

These were not most circumstances.

While the crew of the _Enterprise_ was generally and correctly considered awesomeness _cubed_, it was common knowledge (inside the Fleet, at least) that they weren't exactly Public Relation's favorite group. They were pretty, yes, but the Captain had an odd talent for arriving either pissed or bruised to a photo shoot; the First Officer gave one word answers to all questions; the Chief Medical Officer was just weird; and the Chief Engineer spoke with such an accent that no one could truly understand him.

So, yeah, they hadn't gone to many functions.

And if things continued to go the way they were going, they wouldn't be assigned to any more.

_'Not like that's _our _fault,' _Jim thought sourly, _'We weren't told a fucking _thing_.'_

The Zedakitans, who were hosting the gala, were understandably concerned with the seemingly petty squabbles of one Starbase XI. Since Jim had been expressly ordered to come alone – the brass had apparently thought that he'd get into less trouble all by his lonesome – he couldn't just turn and ask Spock for help. Which led to a great many identical conversations:

ZEDAKITE 1: Excuse me, good Captain. Do you know of the opinions of Starbase XI's head administrative board, in regards to our admittance?

JIM: You know, I don't actually. I'm sorry.

ZEDAKITE 1: Oh, all right. _(ZEDAKITE 1 goes and reports to GROUP OF ZEDAKITES, who now think JIM is an idiot.)_

This happened at _least_ fourtimes before the hosts realized that this was going _nowhere_ fast and decided to just go ahead and give him the tour of their shuttle hangers, something which had been scheduled for the day afterwards. Cargo ship, cargo ship, warship, warship, warship, transport shuttle, transport shuttle – snoozeville.

All of this combined made for a very angry Kirk at the end of the day, one who was asking for Spock even before he'd fully rematerialized in the transporter.

.bdobd.

Commander Spock had been working inside of the Science Labs for less than an hour when an irate Captain Kirk could be heard storming down the hall. The blonde man opened the lab doors and glowered darkly inside.

"Does _anyone _know where the Commander is?" he growled.

The Vulcan in question was wearing heavy goggles and protective clothing, the probable reason for the captain's apparent confusion. Spock was hand-feeding what appeared to be a blue geranium. "I am present, Captain."

"Get out here, I need help." The geranium's petals opened to reveal sharp, pointed teeth. It stretched upwards to grab the food pellet out of the Vulcan's hand and started chewing noisily. Spock motioned for Lieutenant Martan to approach and handed her the small tin of plant food.

"This requires four more servings of peridoxide. See to it." He pulled off his protective gear and walked over to Jim. "You require my presence."

Kirk, who seemed distracted by the look of utter horror on the Lieutenant's face, didn't respond. The lab technicians did not have enough practical experience with carnivorous plants. It was only logical to give them the opportunity to learn.

"Captain?" Spock prompted.

Kirk started. "Sorry. Yeah. I need to know everything you know about Starbase XI's administrative board. The Zedakitians are asking questions and I don't know a damned thing."

Spock considered for a moment. "As their opinions are considered classified information, it would seem unwise to have this discussion in the hallway."

"That's fine. Where do you want to go?"

"Would my quarters be an acceptable location? Conference and recreational facilities are under constant surveillance."

Kirk seemed ready to comment on something, then shrugged. "Sounds good to me." The pair boarded the nearest lift. It stopped at Deck C and they exited, heading towards the commander's quarters. Spock punched entered the 'open' sequence into the keypad, and stood aside to let the captain enter.

"Wow." The human seemed surprised. "I didn't expect so much decoration," he said, and softly touched the red fabric that draped the walls. "What is all this stuff?"

"Part of my Vulcan heritage. They are the only remaining artifacts of their kind. Few Vulcans found reason to transport such things off planet."

Kirk winced. The Terran term for his expression was, according to Lieutenant Uhura, 'kicking oneself'. "Right. Makes sense."

"Captain –,"

"Jim, remember?"

"Jim. What specific information on the Starbase's board do you require?"

"Its composition and political views. Stuff the Zedakitians will want to know about."

Spock sat on his bed and motioned for Jim to take his desk chair. "The First chair of the administrative boards is held by Commodore Barnett, who publicly supports admittance. The Second chair is held by former governor Thomas Leighton, who has made no recorded statements on admittance."

"He supports it." Jim had leaned back into the chair, again looking as though he owned it, a trait apparently unique to him. "Unless he's done a total 180 from the time that I knew him, he'll want them in the Federation."

"Interesting. The Third chair is unfilled."

"That's odd. Anyone know why?"

"I have heard no speculation based on significant facts." Spock hesitated before continuing. "Most of the speculation has been centered on the apparent paranoia of the commodore."

Jim leaned forward. "What?"

"Anonymous reports tell of a growing conviction of the commodore's that accuses former governor Leighton and former councilwoman Tishri of working to usurp him."

Jim's eyebrows flew up. "What was the catalyst?"

"No theories fit the Commodore's established behavior patterns." He paused. "These events seem to be a definite outlier."

"People act weird when they're stressed." The human flopped backward into his chair. "_Are_ Leighton and Tishri plotting against him?"

Spock blinked. It was not a question he had been expecting. "I have... heard nothing to support the commodore's suspicions."

"Hmm." Jim looked contemplative, and Spock could see him readying for departure. Suddenly, he did not want him to leave.

"Would you like to play a game of chess?" he asked, his eyes lighting on the board his Prime counterpart had sent two weeks after the _Enterprise_'s second launch. Jim grinned broadly.

"You know I'm going to win this time, right?"

Spock followed his gaze. "The odds of you succeeding are extremely low."

Jim grinned. "You're on."

.bdobd.

Former Senior Andorian Federation Councilperson Tishri had decided ten minutes ago that she'd really rather not be having this conversation. Unfortunately, the Second Administrative Chair of Starbase XI wasn't picking up on that. Thomas Leighton was a fantastic host, but was almost useless when it came to things like, oh, _paperwork._ This, Tishri had only learned _after_ recommending him for the Second chair, and was why Barnett was getting so pissy.

The Andorian set her cheek in her hand. "Look. Leighton. It'll be fine. Really. Barnett's just annoyed that you keep filling out the wrong forms."

Leighton flushed, "First of all, the form thing isn't my fault," Tishri resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "and secondly, how does any sane man go from _bad paperwork_ to a plot tooverthrow the government?"

"_What_ makes you think he's sane?" Tishri drawled. "The Reconstruction's going slowly. The Admiralty's pissed. And_ now_ he has to do the paperwork of the First _and _Second chairs of a Starbase. He's _not_ sane. Not right now, at least."

Leighton took a moment to consider this. "Okay... How do I calm him down?"

Tishri's antennae were drooping. Gods, but she was tired. "Look, I'll call him tomorrow, ok? But –,"

"Really!" The Andorian blinked at the sudden show of ellubient enthusiasm. "Thanks, you're the best!"

She waved carelessly, dearly wanting to tell him to shut up. Her years of political work got in the way. "I know, I know. You owe me. Tishri out."

"Thanks again! Leighton –,"

She cut the connection before he could finish. Pushing her palms flat on the desk, the politician stood slowly, waiting for her joints to get used to their new positions. _'I'm too old for this,' _she thought mournfully.

It really _was_ too bad she got bored so easily. Retirement had sounded heavenly after the election, but she just could not keep herself away from her old job. The happy legions and the rightfully outraged, the hidden meanings and the closed doors, the _energy _behind it all, the –

_wheep wheep_

The look Tishri threw the comm unit was filled with murderous intent. _'One more call,'_ she thought, _'One more, and then I'm throwing you out the gods-damned window.'_

Stalking stiffly over to her desk, the Andorian stabbed the 'Answer' key. "It better be _really _important."

Barnett gave her an odd look. "You feeling alright?"

Tishri forced her face to clear. She could do _this_. This was easy. With a sigh made to draw the perfect amount of pity from the recipient, she flopped back – '_Ow, shit.'_ –into her chair. "I'm feeling old, that's all."

The commodore gave a sympathetic wince. "I understand completely. What with the Reconstruction, the planet, the Base – "

She pounced, a bit too early for etiquette's sake, but that made it all the more convincing. "Yes, the Base. What's this I've been hearing about you and Leighton having hissy fits? I didn't recommend you two because of your collaborative skills at getting into _catfights_. I thought you knew that."

Barnett squirmed slightly. Ha! This was almost _too_ easy. "Yeah, well. I've been hearing that you and him have been working together. Is that true?"

He'd recovered quickly. Maybe this could still be interesting. "Not true at all, I hardly ever talk to the man, " she declared. Not quite a lie. She hadn't said _when_ she 'hardly ever talked' to him.

"Hmm." Barnett wasn't making eye contact. He felt guilty about accusing her, most likely. Suddenly, he sighed. "I'm sorry. I've just been under a lot of stress these days. I didn't mean to interrogate you."

If he thought that was interrogating, he'd never met the Andorian media. She frowned without thinking: it was kind of creepy knowing_ exactly_ how gullible the leader of the Admiralty was. She caught herself quickly and let him think it was a look of sympathy.

_'Poor Barnett,'_ she thought dispassionately, _'you never had a chance.'_ When the commodore_ finally_ signed off – the man really could go on – Tishri repeated the ritual of standing. One hand, two, plant feet, square shoulders, _push _with the forearms, _hold, hold, _now stretch... there. Mobile.

She ran into Arya in the lobby and gave her a genuine smile. She was one of her favorite staffers. Arya seemed to appreciate the attention: the woman had an air about her that made many people's eyes wander, as though there were a few other things in the corner that were a tad more interesting than the really quite pleasant woman in front of them.

"Hey, Tishri. How're things?"

Tishri responded with a one shouldered shrug. Arya gave a conspiratorial wince. "That bad? Oi."

An exhausted nod. "Barnett and Leighton are bitching again. I swear, I've seen Tellaritian two year olds with better problem solving skills."

Arya winced again. "Have they tried, you know, talking? To each other?"

"Course not. That'd be so _reasonable_."

The lobby's revolving glass doors – lovely Terran invention, those things – deposited the two onto the quiet tunnels of the subterranean city of Shras. The pair strolled slowly towards the bart lines.

"How've you been holding up? You're on the Base too, right?" Arya nodded tiredly. After Tishri's failed reelection, Arya had become a lower-down on the Base XI's Board of Commerce, which reported to the board of Administrators. It was the only place for a non-athletic government worker: management didn't require you to be physically fit.

"I've been alright. It's just been frustrating, seeing the bickering and not being able to step in."

Tishri turned anxiously to look at Arya, _'She isn't...'_

"I mean, I know more about administration than_ either_ of them! I _know_ I could be better than _Barnett_."

The older woman's eyes had widened. Arya hadn't noticed yet. "I didn't see how they can think they're being efficient, I mean – "

"Arya." Tishri'd stopped dead and was staring at the younger politico. "You want the First chair, don't you?"

Arya halted and bowed her head, squirming. "Well, I wouldn't –,"

"This isn't a hard question. Yes or no."

Arya sighed. "Yes, I do."

"And you want me to get it for you."

"Yes."

The elder groaned softly. She knew that this would happen eventually. Arya was too smart not to want more, but was too young to wait for her lucky break. With the Reconstruction going the way it was, that break might not come for years, decades even.

And Arya had run some great campaigns. It was Tishri that had screwed up the last one; that wasn't Arya's fault. But if Tishri didn't help her now, she'd think it was because Tishri hadn't won her reelection.

Tishri rubbed at her forehead tiredly. "I'll start calling tomorrow. I can't promise you a First chair, but at least a Second or a Third." There was really no way to talk Arya out of this. Either she'd do amazing and the Base would jump-start her career, or she'd flop and she'd have to go through all of the normal, slow, boring jobs that everyone else did.

Arya beamed and bowed. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you so much, you _won't _regret this." She turned and continued towards the station, completely forgetting the exhausted woman standing on the sidewalk.

_'Oh, honey. I already do.'_

.bdobd.

Finally,_ finally_, the _Enterprise_ was relieved of the 41 Beta mission, and there was a long stretch between Base XI intrigue. More mission, more adventures. Three more deaths.

Kirk rubbed his aching forehead. He hated writing condolence letters. Parts of the inside of his head were engaged in an all-out war on the bits of his conciounce that weren't completely destroyed by the failure to recognize what was _obviously _a set up, it didn't _matter_ what Fleet intelligence had said because _we've seen this before, _and –

_ wheep wheep_

Desperate for a distraction, any distraction, Kirk stupidly answered the comm without checking to see who it was. His eyes widened when he saw the furious face on the holoscreen. "Tom? What the hell happened; you look pissed."

"I _am_ pissed," Leighton growled. "If I see that goddamned Andorian again I'm going to – "

"Wait, slow down, I'm already confused. What happened?"

"Tishri." Leighton spat. "That blue-blooded traitor called me three days ago, said she had a new First chair, did she have my support? I said, 'No, I got Barnett on my side, it's cool.' 'Alright,' she says, that's it, 'Alright,' cool as a fucking ice cube, turns out she turned 'round'n called Barnett 'bout her new candidate for _Second chair_. And you know what? The fucking sod agrees! I get a call this morning about how I've just been moved to Third chair!"

Tom was breathing heavily, his face flushed. Jim was stunned, "Wait, does Barnett know about Tishri calling you about a new First?"

"Yes! And the fucker didn't fucking believe me! He said I only wanted that I was lying to get him demoted!"

Blink. "But didn't you want him demoted?"

"ARGH!" Tom grabbed two fistfuls of his hair. "That's not the point! I just got demoted to Third! Third chairs have NO POWER! I can't believe that – "

Jim knew where this was going and cut Leighton off. "Ok, ok, that all sucks, why'd you call me?"

Leighton turned calculating. "You know how you said a while back that you owed me a boon?"

Kirk stiffened. "Tom, I'm a captain now, I can't just leave my ship to go gallivanting around space –,"

"No no no! You can stay right there on the _Enterprise_ and do everything from your desk!" Leighton seemed to have realized that he looked like a sort of hungry animal, and had switched to a false grin.

Jim eyed him warily. This wasn't going to end well whether he did what Leighton wanted him to or not. And he did owe him. Best to at least find out what he was refusing, anyway: "What do you want?"

The governor's grin widened. "I want the Admiralty to order Barnett back."

"_What?_"

"You heard me. And I know you want him back there too, you lost you fucking mind when I told you about him. Just tell them what you told me."

Kirk had started shaking his head long before Leighton'd finished speaking. "He's my senior officer, I can't do that."

Leighton snorted. "Yeah you can. Say you want what's best for the Fleet. They'll believe that."

The really hard part about it was that Barnett did belong back on Earth. But it'd be treason to report him for any other reason than that. "Look, Tom, I'd love to help, but – "

"You promised."

"I also promised to serve Starfleet. The Federation is bigger than you."

"I'll tell the media what you did during Kodos."

'_Damn it.' _Kirk faked disinterest with a raised eyebrow. "You did the exact same goddamned stuff. They'll figure that out, if you lead them to the records."

"Fuck, I don't care. At least I'll've been brave enough to come forward."

Kirk straightened his back and shook his head. "No. I will not betray a senior officer. That's final. Kirk out."

He had enough time to see Leighton's face twist into rage before the connection cut.

.bdobd.

Leighton called back a few days later, and he was practically humming. "I don't know what you said, " he beamed, "but it worked."

Kirk, who'd been expecting a list of all of the news agencies who'd just been contacted, was rather taken aback. "What?"

"Barnett was just ordered back to Earth. Practically a court martial."

Blond eyebrows flew up. "Why now?"

Leighton rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it. Because you talked to them, of course."

Kirk was only getting more confused. "Tom, I didn't say a thing to anyone."

The cheerful man tapped the side of his nose. "Course you didn't."

"Wha – No, you don't understand. There is no possible way for any complaint to've been processed in less than a week. Even if I had said anything, nothing would've happened for months –,"

"Please. Pike loves you. He'd do something."

"He couldn't do a thing, he'd've had to call a meeting and introduce a motion and call a vote and get support and... " Kirk took another look at Leighton's still grinning face and trailed off. "You know what? Fuck it. I didn't say anything."

"Debt's paid, buddy. Thanks!"

"Whatever. Kirk out."

Leighton waved merrily. "Leighton out!"

.bdobd.


	3. Musical Chairs

A/N:

HUGE thanks to GoodVibes for helping me type this. Rewritten.

.bdobd.

The next day Captain James T. Kirk of the USS _Enterprise_, NCC 1710, was ordered to Starbase XI to assume the position of the First chair of the Administrative Board.

This order was relayed by a very surprised Lieutenant Uhura, and received by an even more surprised Captain Kirk. The captain nodded twice, told the lieutenant to send his 'Affirmative' to Starfleet Command, and left the conn to Mr. Spock.

He then strolled nonchalantly over to the nearest conference room, locked the door, and burst into hysterical laughter.

.bdobd.

Tishri was disgusted, amused, and horrified. Which was, actually, a marked improvement, she decided. Yesterday she'd been disgusted, amused, horrified, surprised, and murderously angry, causing her to become hysterical. Which was never fun.

The thought of Leighton using Kirk to kick off Barnett was sickening. The Captain was an intergalactic hero, for the gods' sake, even the _Cardassians _liked him. Using Kirk was _the_ way to get the public angry.

So when Barnett came to her office to ask if she knew why the Admiralty had gotten so pissy, she told him _everything._

Well, her version of everything.

How Leighton had _convinced_ her to soften up Barnett. Wasn't it great that Barnett'd been too smart for that?

How _Leighton_ had planned to elevate Arya to First chair, and then switch the placements, which required less paperwork. Wasn't it good that she caught that in the nick of time, and how smart they'd been making it backfire?

And how Leighton had convinced Kirk to – against his will, probably _blackmailed_, the poor dear – turn the Admiralty against Barnett. Shouldn't we let Kirk go, just this once? You belong with the Admiralty anyway, let's be grateful that the good Captain did us a favor!

And Tishri went on like this for quite some time.

And is was so... _boring_.

Seeing Leighton get his impeachment notice had been wonderful. Barnett had 'secretly' recorded their meeting, as she'd expected. He came by later apologize, but she wasn't angry. She had made her own recordings to send to the judge that was to prosecute Leighton for corruption. Explaining their existence would've been difficult.

She destroyed her tapes later. Never a good idea to leave such things lying about.

.bdobd.

Jim would be eternally grateful that the _Enterprise _had sent him off to Starbase XI in a shuttle, instead of taking him there herself.

He couldn't bear the thought of his crew seeing the look on his face when he walked into the Administrative Hall: horror, fear, and bemusement, which, when compressed onto one face, made for an expression that looked suspiciously like panic.

The Board was a mess: that he'd known going in. But _my god_, no one here could do _anything_. A vacant Third chair, a Second chair filled by a scared little Arya who had no idea what she was doing (_and knew it_), an inefficient staff, and himself at the head.

He was _doomed_.

So when his mother called on Day Three, he was ecstatic.

_"Mom!"_

Winona blinked in surprise, then smiled. "Well hello there!" she grinned. "And how are you?"

Jim gave a melodramatic shudder. "Don't even ask. How've you been?"

"Bored. That Third chair you've got is literally _the only job _in the Fed that doesn't require you pass a physical with flying colors."

Jim snorted. "You want it?"

_"What?"_

The question had been asked as kind of a joke, but it was out there now, so why not? "Do. You. Want. The chair?"

Winona's face hardened to stone. "James T. Kirk, I raised you better than this. You do NOT just _give away _Base chairs."

Jim stiffened, then decided to go for the gold. If he let this hang, it would only get awkward, and if the chair was kept vacant he was going to kill something. "You do if they're improperly manned, and you know who to replace them with."

_"James!"_

Kirk leaned forward. "Mom: I have a Second chair that doesn't know Fleet regs on a Starbase. She only gets Fed rules. I don't even _have_ a Third chair, I have no idea what I'm doing, and I can't call any of my own crew in to sort it out. I'm screwed. I'm totally fucking screwed, and you can help. You know the regs. Fuck, you _made_ some of them, and I can trust you. I _know_ you're not going to be doing this to fuck with some random councilperson. And I can't move forward with 41 Beta's application without all the paperwork, and _you can do that._"

Winona was staring at him as though he'd grown another head. "_Ho_ly _shit_. You're serious."

"Completely. I need someone I can trust as my second, and I can't have Spock. I trust you, and you need a job."

Her lips thinned, and her eyes narrowed. "You know how this'll look, right?"

Jim gave a lopsided grin, "When'd I start caring about _that?_ Come on, you raised me better."

Winona smiled. "Get my forms done, I'll be over asap."

"Thank gods." He was clearly relieved, "You have no _idea_ how much you'll be helping me.

His mother flapped a hand nonchalantly. "Of course, of course. See you soon. Kirk out."

"Thanks again. Kirk out."

.bdobd.

When Winona Kirk did arrive at Starbase XI a week later, it was a cause for much speculation among Starfleet personnel. It was also the cause of much distress to one particular Andorian.

When Tishri heard the news, it was all she could do to keep from laughing. She loved Arya, she really did, but by gods, Kirk replaced her with his _mother_? Too funny.

And Ayra was so _upset_, she clearly thought it was the end of the universe. "Honey really, Third chair is NOT that bad. Just think of it as probation." It was hard being sympathetic over a comm connection.

The woman in question was still sobbing, "No, Tishri, he didn't move me, he _fired_ me. He said he had someone else waiting. There's an empty seat now!"

The older Andorian blinked. That was quick. "How'd he line her up so fast? Did he know the Admiralty was going to elect him?"

"He _didn't_." Clearly hurt by her mentor's callousness, Ayra gave a loud sniff. "He had _no idea_. Oh Tishri, what am I going to do?"

The politician in question had to resist rolling her eyes. "First, stop crying. Then, take a shuttle back here and get a position as a city planner."

_"City planner?"_

"Yes, a city planner." She pinned the hapless woman with a stare. "You, my dear, are doing it the old-fashioned way from now on. Bottom rung up. I'm not giving you any more freebies, if James T. Kirk thinking that you need work, then by Gods, you need work. The man's practically his own political party. Now get your antennae over here and let's see if we can't get you prepped for a minor election. Alright?"

This was clearly NOT what Arya'd wanted to hear, but she couldn't exactly refuse. To be rejected by both Kirk and Tishri would mean a total political suicide. She hung her head. "I'll be over as soon as I can."

"Good girl. Tishri out."

"Arya out."

The older Andorian knit her hands behind her head and leaned back in her chair. What to do now. Planet 41 Beta's admittance to the Federation was almost guaranteed, the Federation needed as many citizens as it could get its hands on. The planet wasn't even the issue any more, not really. It was those damned board seats.

Once a Starbase got publicized, more and more captains remembered its name and asked to be docked there. That meant more independent businesses coming into cater to the needs of the crew, which meant more revenue going to the Base and to the board itself. But Captain Kirk couldn't say on as board head, he had a ship to look after.

That left _only_ the Second seat filled, with Mrs. Kirk, who really was not a bad politician. She'd been part of that Europa Convention and _that_ had certainly gone well. Still two seats unfilled, Winona could only really recommend one in practice, as the lowers in the base wouldn't follow the orders of an administration that was being blatantly manipulated. But who would she pick? There was always-

_wheep wheep_

"Oh, for gods' sakes." The glare Tishri gave the comm could melt dilithium. She presses the 'Answer' key, expecting to see Arya, or Barnett, or maybe even Tom, but-

"_Captain Kirk?"_

The captain threw her a grin, "That's me. You know about the whole Base XI thing, right?" He gave her a knowing look, "Or is it insulting for me to even ask?"

Tishri, who was still stunned, just managed to stammer out a faint, "Well, yeah, I know about it."

Another blinding smile. "So you know that there's a seat still unfilled, right?"

Blinking rapidly, and trying to regain control of the conversation, the Andorian slammed up her masks. "_One_ seat Captain?" she asked slyly, "Surely you're not planning on leaving the Enterprise understaffed?" Because if he was, _gods_, what a bargaining chip that would-

"Of course I'm not abandoning her!" _Fuckit._ Was nice to see some Fleet loyalty though. "I'm just working in the moment. _Currently_, there is one seat open on the board, the Third chair. Do you want that seat?"

"Yes." She hadn't actually realized it until he'd asked, but really it was The Perfect Job. Nothing too strenuous, nothing too boring, no chance of Thkahn calling. "I'd love the position."

"Wonderful!" Another grin. _'No wonder the media loves him'_ "How soon can you get here?"

"Um." _'Um? What the fuck was that?'_ "I wasn't expecting to leave, I'll need to talk to my staff..."

"Of course! Say your goodbyes, and all that." If he was lying, then he was bloody fantastic at it. "Can you be here by Sunday?"

Five days? Hells, she'd been expecting three. "That's plenty of time."

"Great, I've already got you a ticket."

_'What?'_

"Excuse me?"

Shameless grin now. "Sorry. Didn't make sense, making you pay your own way. I'm sending it to you now," and when Tishri checked her downloads, the damned filed'd been downloading for two minutes.

She gave him a genuine smile. "You cheeky bastard. You started sending the ticket before you even called me."

He was beaming again, "No sense in wasting time. See you Sunday."

Tishri was still grinning. "Sunday it is."

"Kirk out."

"Tishri out."

The Andorian sat in silence for a few moments, thinking over her situation. Then, suddenly, a thought flew across her mind. _'Well, fuck,'_ she thought, _'I've just been played.'_

Then she tilted her head back and laughed loud and strong. _'This is going to be SO much fun.'_

.bdobd.

The first thing Tishri did when she arrived at the base was clean out her new office. In the process, she found several bottles of illegal Romulan liquor, which clearly had belonged to Leighton in his short time as Third chair. Relations with the Romulans being what they were, the alcohol was now not only illegal, but in truly bad taste. She gleefully sent the ale to the Admiralty to be used as part of a pending corruption investigation on Tom's time on the administration.

This move only added to Jim's confusion, and whenever Jim was confused, he talked to Spock. Called Spock, in this case: Jim was hating not being able to talk face-to-face with his crew. The Vulcan, was, unfortunately, not particularly helpful.

"I see no logical reason for the former Councilperson's actions."

"Damn. I was hoping I'd missed something." The blond shook his head. "I just do not get her. She wanted Barnett off to help Arya, that's also the reason for getting Tom ousted. I get that."

Spock broke in, "Have you any clear proof of her actions, as related to these situations?"

"It's all second-hand stuff, but it's good enough for me. Tom was too riled to lie."

"If what you are proposing is true, the former councilwoman is guilty of the corruption of the Starfleet electoral process."

"Again, it's nothing concrete enough for an investigation. What I don't get is how easily she's accepting my position. She should want to kill me, but she seems perfectly happy with me in control."

"Perhaps she has seen the illegality of her past actions, and is now attempting to 'make up for them.'"

"That's what I'd thought, I was counting on it, actually. But then she brought the ale. So now I'm back to square one."

"I do not understand your explanation. Why do you believe that Tishri was not trying to make amends?"

Jim smirked. "She came into my office – it's quite a nice one, by the way – and she was practically skipping. She found some Romulan ale-" he broke off at Spock's suddenly distinct non-expression, "I know, right? Anyway, she found some of it in a drawer in Tome's desk, and wanted permission to send it to the Admiralty as evidence in the investigation."

"Did you approve her request?"

"Of course I did! Christ, I'm not that heartless. _Anyway_, so if she was trying to make amends, she wouldn't want Tom getting into any more trouble. She'd feel too guilty. And she's definitely not doing it for Andoria, she wouldn't want any trouble with any governor –,"

"Former governor."

"He's got political leverage in that part of the galaxy, he still counts."

Spock looked almost-exasperated. "I am continually amazed by the illogical actions of others."

Jim flashed him a smile. "And there are only four parties involved here, you should see some Terran family dramas. They're _insane_." Spock blinked in a Vulcan wince. "She wouldn't want any trouble with any governors that govern planets that make raw materials, and Q has a great quadrotriticale crop now."

Spock nodded once in acknowledgement. Jim propped his head on his fist, "How's my ship been?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "It has not been destroyed, insofar as I can tell."

The blond snorted with laughter. "See, you do have a sense of humor. Any other news?"

"Negative."

"All right then." The human yawned and stretched. "I have to get some sleep. The new councilpeople are gonna be sworn in tomorrow, it's gonna be crazy around here."

Spock gave a short nod of acknowledgement. "Live long and prosper, Captain."

"Peace, and long life, and I'm starting to think that you're forgetting my name just to annoy me. Kirk out."

"Most certainly, Captain. Spock out."

.bdobd.

The swearing-in of Federation Councilmembers had, like wine, gotten more complex with age. However, wine was almost guaranteed to go down easier.

These ceremonies used to be simple, quick little things, a semi-archaic holdover from the time of the Earth-Romulan conflict and the War of Charon. Now, these rituals had mutated into something that put Earth's Mayan culture to shame.

The politicians themselves didn't do much, they were a kind of boring sideshow in a gaudy diplomatic spectacle that the vast majority of people agreed was either ridiculous or in bad taste, or both. Unfortunately, the vast majority of people did not hold political office, so protests hadn't really gotten anywhere.

Why the Enterprise was expected to attend was both very obvious, and, with a bit of thought, very stupid. It was the flagship of Starfleet, with the biggest lasers, so it must attend. Whether or not this display of arms was actually a good idea was a question no one really seemed to care about.

This oversight was thrown sharply into focus when two Zedakitian warships, ships that should not have existed, arrived at the ceremony.

.bdobd.


	4. Social Gaffs of Varying Kinds

A/N:

.bdobd.

Jim had asked for Pike to comm him after the inauguration ceremonies and give him a quick rundown - the Base's holovid frequencies weren't set up yet, and Jim hadn't wanted to ship out. But the man was so frantic that it took ten minutes of concentrated soothing for Pike to be calm enough to be intelligible.

Things didn't really improve from there.

"Wait, they did _what_?" Kirk asked incredulously.

Admiral Pick sighed. "The Zedakitians brought two warships to the ceremony." He rubbed at his eyes. "And don't ask me how they got the damn things; no one I've talked to has a clue."

Jim blinked in confusion. "Wait, what do you mean, no clue? You didn't know they had warships?"

Pike was stunned. "_You knew they had warships?_"

Jim was beginning to get worried. "… Well, yeah. The first thing they did after that stupid gala was take me on a tour of the hangers. How didn't you know about it?"

The older man leaned forward, both palms flat on this desk: "You knew they had warships and _didn't tell us? _Why didn't you say it on your logs, that's what the damned things are for!"

"I _did_ say it on my logs! If you'd've seen them, you'd've known!"

An apprehensive Federation Council runner - the Council's version of a yeoman - had appeared beside the Admiral, "Admiral Pike, sir, you need to –,"

"For god's sakes, not now!" he snapped, "I'm busy."

The unfortunate underling soldiered on, "Sir, I'm sorry, but the Zedakitians ... they've ordered their ambassadors back to their planet..."

Pike eyes widened and he whirled to face the messenger. "What? When?"

The yeoman flinched, "Just now, sir. They say we've been... ah..." the man looked at the PADD he was carrying, "'too rude to bear', and they want all of their people back on their homeworld."

The admiral glared furiously at Kirk, "Do you know anything about this?"

Offended, Kirk snapped. "No! And you wouldn't think I did if you'd just _read the goddamned logs!_"

Pike threw up his hands and turned back to the runner. "Well just, what does the Council want _me_ to do about it?"

The man seemed to sink into himself, his eyes flickering between the two fuming superiors. "They want you..." he swallowed and started again, "They want you to call Captain Kirk and convince him to be the temporary Zedakitian ambassador."

_ "WHAT!"_ It was Kirk who yelled this time. "How do they expect me to be an ambassador, a Base head, _and _a Captain? I'm barely doing the two as it is!"

Pike, who'd been doing a truly remarkable impression of a fish, answered him with acid, "Well, seeing as the _Enterprise_ is already _at _the planet, it won't be very hard after all?"

Jim blinked again. "Wait, what? Why's the _Enterprise_ at 41 Beta?" Spock's reports hadn't been sent yet, and until they got to the base Jim was completely cut off from the ship's news.

Pike clearly didn't believe him. "Oh, spare me. We got annoyed with 41 Beta's government, the Enterprise was sent for 'diplomatic purposes'."

"I thought we were relieved of that mission."

Pike shook his head. "No, no. It happened _again_. Just now. You were reassigned a half hour ago."

Kirk ground his teeth. "Well, christ, what do you need me for? You've already taken my ship."

"I... don't know." Pike turned to the runner who was still standing awkwardly off to one side. "You. Runner... "

"Neilson, sir."

"Runner Neilson. Why's Kirk needed?"

The man's gaze moved reluctantly to the captain. "The Zedakitians requested him specifically." He looked back to his PADD, "'No Kirk, no deal,' are their exact words. Well, translated. They don't know Standard yet."

The admiral threw Kirk a wry look. "You've gotten pretty popular."

The blond was shocked. "I – I swear sir, I had _nothing _to do with this. I didn't even know about the ships until you called me."

Pike stared at him a moment longer, then sighed. He turned to the runner. "Dismissed, Neilson."

"Yes, sir." The runner, used to dealing with much older and more politically correct superiors, seemed relieved.

The admiral swiveled back to Kirk, "Amazingly, I do believe you. You love your ship too much to want to be an ambassador." He sighed again and flopped backwards in his chair. "But whatever I think, other people are going to be suspicious.

"We still need you to get down to that planet. If having you there will make these people talk, then they have you. If only for a little while. I'll assign your replacement for the Base head; you don't need to worry about that."

Kirk nodded dumbly, stunned by his sudden luck. "When's the shuttle picking me up?"

"Erm." Pike checked the PADD the yeoman had left. "Tomorrow. 1000 hours. You're going straight to the _Enterprise_, and beaming down from there."

Jim began to beam. "Really? That's great; I haven't seen her in weeks." He paused for a moment, then: "Who's going to be the new First chair? Anyone know yet?"

"Well, since you don't have a Second chair, that'll be up to a –,"

Jim narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Wait. I have a Second chair."

Pike froze, as if he could somehow undo this unwelcome bit of information by staying very, very still. "When did you get a Second chair?" he asked slowly.

"A few days ago. The reports should be in by now."

The admiral was now frantically scrolling through a PADD. "The only thing I have here is that your mother visited –," his eyes widened. "Kirk, you didn't. You did NOT nominate your mother. Please, _please_ tell me you are not that stupid."

The younger man stiffened. "She's qualified, I can trust her – "

"She's your MOTHER, for god's sakes! Do you know – jesus, you _must_ know – how bad this looks! You come in, get your Mom in, you leave to go play ambassador, she gets her own Base! Fuck, I mean - !"

"I never meant it that way, she's qualified!"

"_I _know you didn't, it's the rest of the _quadrant _you need to convince!" Pike groaned and ground himself into his seat's backrest, "How did you expect this to work? There's a plan, there always is with you, you couldn't've done something like this without _some _expectations..."

"Honestly? I figured if I crammed enough politicians together into one little room, they'd all _think _I had a plan, and would work around that. And then I could see what they thought I thought I was thinking, and I could just use their crafty plans – the ones they thought I had, that is."

The Admiral looked as though Jim had just admitted he got off on stomping kittens. "_You didn't have a plan?_"

"No, I _had _a plan, but it's not _my _plan, you see. I'm counting on other people _thinking _I have a plan, if I _do_have a plan it'll screw up the entire plan, right?"

Pike just sat, stunned. "Jim. You've doomed us all."

The blond grinned recklessly, "Oh, don't be so morbid. It makes you sound like Bones."

Pike was shaking his head from side to side. "No. You don't get it. We are completely and totally screwed."

Jim flapped a hand nonchalantly. "Nah. It'll work out. It always does."

.bdobd.

Spock wasn't nearly as happy to see Jim as Jim was to see Spock.

"Spock! How ya been?" Kirk was climbing clumsily out from the transport shuttle into the Enterprise's shuttle bay.

"Captain." The hybrid was standing totally still doing his trademarked Vulcan Glare that consisted of stiffening his neck and narrowing his eyes slightly. It was terrifying. "I just finished conversing with the Admiral Pike."

Jim froze in-between the shuttle's last step and the hanger floor, a duffle bag dangling precariously from one shoulder. "Oh. Um. Well. What'd he say?"

Spock walked stiffly over to the blond and took his bag. "He told me that you gave your mother command to the Second Starbase chair without a plan for the easily foreseeable political repercussions."

"Politics really isn't my job though, that's the –," He broke off at the distinct non-expression on the commander's face. "Anyway, that's not quite true. I'd simply _planned_ for more time." He stepped onto the hanger deck and beamed. "Oh, it's good to be back."

The commander nodded formally, "It is pleasant to have you returned to us, Captain."

Jim nodded regally, "I appreciate your restrained approval."

Spock looked as offended as he ever did – not very much. Still, it was there. "Captain. I do not believe I behaved in any manner deserving of insult."

Jim laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, choosing to ignore how Spock stiffened. "Just messing with you."

If Spock were human, he'd have rolled his eyes. As he was not, he merely quirked an eyebrow. "Illogical."

"But quite fun." The blond started towards the hanger door. "When're we to go down to the planet?"

The commander had to speed up slightly to catch up with the enthusiastic human, "We are to attend a conference to day after tomorrow."

"Do we have any information on their culture yet?" He'd turned out of the hanger and was now striding towards the nearest lift

"Yeoman Rand is collecting all data received; her report is due in three hours."

"Excellent." Jim entered the lift, Spock at his heels. "Sickbay."

Spock went still. "Sickbay, Captain? You are needed on the Bridge."

Jim shook his head, "Bones said if I didn't head to Medical first thing he'd order me to strip on the Bridge. I'll only be there a few minutes, you don't have to worry."

The lift halted smoothly as Spock pressed the 'Hold' command on the lift's wall panel. Jim stared at him quizzically. "May I suggest," the commander started slowly, "having a conference with Lieutenant Uhura? She had received a Starfleet transmission three minutes before you landed."

"Priority One?"

"Yes sir."

"Damn. That means they're going to yell at me." The human sighed gustily, "You have the conn until I get to the Bridge," He pressed the 'Hold' command again, and the lift smoothly resumed its motion.

"Yes, sir."

Jim paused momentarily as the lift doors opened, so as to fully enjoy the stunned expressions of the medical team. Everyone knew the Captain never came to Sickbay of his own volition. McCoy must've forced him somehow, but how did he –

"Damnit, Jim, I told you to warn me before you came down," The CMO strode over and whipped out a tricorder, "I don't have a station set up for you yet!"

Jim raised his eyebrows. "You carry a tricorder in your back pocket?"

McCoy was furiously scanning the danger-prone Captain, muttering darkly. "Don't trust those damn Base people, can't tell a cut from a cadaver-"

Kirk peered around the agitated CMO and tapped an intercom unit on the wall, "Uhura, conference room 7."

"Yes, sir," replied the intercom. Jim pivoted to see Spock standing awkwardly just inside the lift.

"Mr. Spock. You have the conn." Kirk motioned for him to get going. The commander nodded once and wordlessly handed over the duffle bag. "Ah. Yes. Thank you." Spock and the lift rose to the Bridge.

Uhura caught it on its way down. When she arrived it was clear that she was fighting to keep from smiling. She was winning the battle right up until the three of them – Bones had followed, bitching mightily – had entered the conference room that adjoined Sickbay.

"Captain, would you like my report before or after your checkup?" she asked as the doors closed, clearly bemused.

The Captain sent her a wry grin. "Now, Lieutenant. Just an outline, skip all of the thee's and thou's."

"Yes, sir." She nodded and sat down at one of the terminals imbedded within the conference table. The report soon began scrolling on the holoscreen in front of her. She winced as she scanned through it. "Damn. Their translations are off a bit, this may sound weird…

"Right. Ok, the Zedakitians have specifically requiem-ed – requested, probably - the presence of the Enterprise and of the – mistake not mine, theirs – of the Captain Kirk to act as the liaisons to the – from the – United Federation of Planets.

"The Captain and a diplomatically – diplomatic - team of no more than three are to beam down to the Planet 41 Beta on the Stardate of 2259.62 at 1300 hours to meet to head of the – to meet with the head of the Zedakitian ambassadorial party." Uhura leaned closer to her screen. "Annddd… warnings from the Council not to screw this up… some 'by the order of's… and… that's all the big stuff, really."

Kirk nodded once, withholding a smile, and moved so that McCoy – who was now roundly cursing every Starbase medical personnel to have ever existed to a painful and everlasting death – was not blocking his view of the Lieutenant. "Send the whole thing over to my chair, I want to read through it personally."

"Yes, sir."

"And Bones," who was now pressing Jim's left shoulder rhythmically between his palms, "I'll come down to Medical for a full review after Alpha shift, alright?"

The Doctor scowled deeply, "Jim, I don't trust those Base doctors, they don't know your quirks, you need to –"

"I _need to _be on the Bridge. I'll come down after Alpha shift, I swear."

Bones pursed his lips. "Fine. But when you get sick because something's been festering for four hours longer than it should, don't come crying to me."

"Will do." Kirk turned to Uhura, "Are you still on Alpha?"

She shook her head, "Beta, I got off two hours ago."

"Right, I need you on Alpha tomorrow, alright?"

Uhura snapped a slight salute, "Yes, sir."

"Great," Jim waved over his shoulder, "Bye Bones!"

McCoy, who'd turned back to his station grumbling caustically, didn't look up.

.bdobd.

Rand's report was pretty sparse – evidence of how little the almost fanatically thorough woman had had to work with.

The Zedakitians were a humanoid race that had governed by hereditary royalty while in the Cardassian Empire, but when they'd split they'd switched to a single-party system. They were so exasperated by the corruption that had run rampant through their last government that their lower classes were composed of prostitutes, entertainers, merchants, and lobbyists – lower class being defined as 'those who catered to the base desires of unprincipled people' (p. 4 Zedakitian Cultural Review, translated from Zedakitian).

There was, however, an interesting footnote that to the effect that the population still enjoyed the services of the prostitutes, entertainers, merchants, and lobbyists, so, really, all bets were off.

They sounded like pricks to Jim. Spock disagreed. Of course.

"While their current use of a caste system is unfortunate, they have promised to modify their behavior. It is unwise to base your emotional opinion of them on these facts alone."

Spock, Uhura, and he were standing in the transporter room, preparing to beam down to the planet. "But that's logical. I'm basing my opinions on all of the available data."

"I am positing that your perception of the information is wrongly biased. It is your extremely negative connotations with their social structure that I am contesting."

Jim frowned and strapped his holster into place. "The Fed agrees with me. You can't become a member if you use a caste system. That's been in there since the Constitution."

Uhura, who'd been watching the exchange with interest, suddenly broke in. "From what I've seen, the reason people aren't making a fuss is because it's very flexible. You can change your social status really easily."

The captain shook his head. "Yeah, by arguing your case to a board appointed by the Senior Cleric. I've seen the transcripts of those rulings. They're so corrupt it's funny."

Spock almost-frowned at the blond. "I see little of the Terran concepts of humor present in the high levels of corruption on the High Royal Debate Board."

Jim threw the man a thoroughly amused look, "High Royal Debate Board? That's a bit of a mouthful."

Uhura snickered. "Admi-Nistra-Teurs."

Jim blinked. "Administrators?"

Her lips quirked again. "No, Admi-Nistra-Teurs. Admi means high, Nistra is royal intellectuals, Teurs means deliberation committee. It's just one of those meaningless coincidences."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."

Jim smiled, "We ready?" Nods all around. "Then let's go. Scotty?"

The Chief Engineer answered in his trademark almost-impenetrable Scottish accent. "Aye, Keptan, weh're ready. Ah'll be beamin' the translator's down in a few minutes, theh're too fussy to go down wi' you ahll."

The threesome stepped onto the transporter pad. "Energize."

The team appeared inside one of the larger government buildings. A small group of dusky purple bipeds were waiting anxiously off in one corner. Jim leaned over to Spock, "Was there supposed to be a welcoming party?"

Spock seemed almost-concerned, "Negative, Captain. We were to be allowed time to privately converse before meeting with any statesmen."

The team of Zedakites suddenly loped towards the Starfleet officers and faced Kirk. Bowing deeply, the aliens spoke quietly in a language that sounded like they were attempting to sing around a mouthful of water.

Jim turned awkwardly to Uhura, "You have any idea what they're saying?" They'd planned for the translators to ease the way; the Lieutenant had had only a week to get a hold on the language; that wasn't nearly enough time…

She looked from him to the purple hominoids, who hadn't risen. Nibbling her lower lip, she hesitantly responded. "I can get the gist, but nothing really specific without the translators for some of the nouns…"

Kirk looked at their hosts. The fact that their knee joints were about a foot behind their pelvis made it a bit harder to concentrate – Zedakitian legs were built backwards, like flamingos. "Do what you can."

Uhura stepped forward and addressed the group. Her accent was clearly off, she sounded like she was stuttering – it was probably her stopping in the middle of sentences and restructuring them to avoid unknown verbs.

The apparent head of the party straightened abruptly, his legs snapping out from beneath him. He directed some sort of an angry comment at the Lieutenant.

She turned back to Kirk. "He wants to know why I'm the one talking to him, not you, Captain. It's an insult to be addressed by a subordinate, apparently."

Kirk's jaw clenched. "Tell him that we didn't have adequate information to prepare for this meeting, and that your words are mine."

The Lieutenant swung back to the now-irritated group – all standing – and started stuttering again, translating the leader's response out of the corner of her mouth over her shoulder.

"He asks if the one possessing height – that's probably you, Commander – knows the language." Jim opened his mouth to respond angrily, then closed it again, turning to Spock.

"Do you know Zedakitian?" Spock tilted his head slightly to the left, the Vulcan equivalent of a wishy-washy symbol.

"I have the basic knowledge of the tongue. With the translator's assistance I am fully fluent." He paused. "I believe that hearing more dialogue will greatly aid my study."

Kirk turned back to the Lieutenant. "Tell them yes, he will be in three minutes."

She quickly complied, and Kirk savored the confused looks of the natives. One of them piped up with a query that was hurriedly translated, "They want to know, when the Commander becomes able to speak of the world – becomes fluent – if he will be able to negotiate, instead of me." Her mouth twisted. "They find me unworthy."

The Captain's planned furious denial was cut off by the arrival of the translators in a sudden, relieving swirl of bronze light. The lieutenant all but lunged for one of them.

There hadn't seemed any reason for a third device. Kirk was going to be accompanied by either the Head Communications Officer or the teacher of the Head Communications Officer, so there had been no reason to pack and ear bud for Jim.

Uhura already had hers screwed into place and motioned for the Zedakitians to again begin speaking. "They say…," her eyes widened, "oh, whoops. They're not asking for me to be absent from _negotiations_. They want you to give them _advice_."

"On what? Why do they want advice from me? There've been political slimeballs all over this place for the last five months; why didn't they ask them?"

"They say…," she paused again, "as you are on the Board of Administrators, you will be in the best position to give assistance."

"What board?"

It was the commander who spoke now, "They are most likely referring to your recent service aboard Starbase XI, Captain."

"Ah." Kirk pivoted back to the lieutenant, "Tell them I'll be happy to help, but only after I've talked to the government's official liaisons."

Uhura started stuttering away, but before she'd finished the leader had broken in – rudely – and she stopped to convert it. "Sir, they say they are the official contacts. The subjects this group wants to discuss are the government is having troubles with."

"Confirmation?" The Lieutenant rotated to question the leader. He produced a badge from an inside pocket of his uniform and brandished it proudly.

Spock stepped forward and anticlimactically began scanning the ornate metal disk. "His identification is valid, Captain." The leader, clearly piqued, thrust the badge back into his pocket.

Kirk nodded, "Alright then, where are we to talk? Not here, I'm assuming."

The disgruntled leader nodded after Uhura had finished. "You're to follow them, he says," she said.

Kirk was opening his mouth to consent when Spock started in, "Captain, it is unwise to attend an unscheduled meeting in an unknown area with unknown participants without security personnel."

The blond nodded. "You're right. Uhura. We'll follow, as will the three security crew who're beaming down now." He flipped open his communicator and began ordering a guard team to be transported as the leader began to sing furiously.

"He says no more are allowed sir – "

"Tell 'em that they can deal. More are coming."

The leader, hearing this converted, threw up his hands and sent one of his minionsscurrying down one of the chamber's adjoining hallways, presumably to warn any ambassadors that the guests were bringing guests.

"The leader says to warn you… that as a precaution either all of the proceedings will be conducted in Zedakitian, or the security team will be put behind ClearShot."

ClearShot was a transparent, soundproof material that phasers could fire through. It was popping up everywhere; Security loved the stuff.

"Allow the ClearShot," Kirk said, distracted, as the security crew beamed down. When everyone had assembled, the Captain returned his attention to the liaisons. "Very good then. Mr. Spock, can you translate if anything…"

The Vulcan nodded. "I am passable, Captain. I will improve with time."

The newly beamed Enterprise crewmen were checking that their weapons were set to the correct levels. "Excellent." Kirk pivoted to face Uhura, "Tell them that we're ready when they are."

The natives, upon hearing this translated, motioned down the hallway the minion guy had just sprinted down. The expanded Enterprise party started in the indicated direction, but were stopped by the leader, who started singing at Uhura again.

"They say…, " she frowned, "They want me taken back to my residence – the ship. They say I am no longer of use."

Kirk fought the urge to kick the leader and just glared at him instead. Then he looked back to Uhura and sighed. "It'd be best if you went back to the Enterprise. The Commander can take over from here."

The Lieutenant clearly wasn't happy, but obediently commed Scotty and was beamed back up.

The Starfleet complement then – finally – followed the Zedakitians down the hall.

.bdobd.


	5. To Be, To Is, and Other Versions Thereof

A/N:

asphyxiation: Death from lack of oxygen to the brain, the technical term for death by strangulation (or drowning or smothering, usually).

.bdobd.

The reason for the ClearShot, and for sending the lieutenant away, soon became clear.

"Wait, you did _what?_"

The Zedakitian ambassadors had, after some whispering, decided to speak in Standard that was decidedly fuzzy about the difference between 'be' and 'is'. They shifted uncomfortably. "The total repercussion of our actions did not occur towards us until a while afterwards."

Spock, who, in his own Vulcan way, seemed just as horrified as Jim, broke in, "Why did you remove the inheritance laws without checking your own legal records?"

The second of the liaisons answered, "It was done to haste. We did not have time—"

"You did not have time to check _your own records?_" It was as close to shouting Jim'd ever heard the hybrid come. He decided to try to diffuse the situation, quickly; liaisons dying from asphyxiation probably wouldn't help negotiations.

"Ok, take us through this one more time. First, there was a noble class –,"

"That we eradicated!"

"Right, I got that. It's everything after that part that doesn't make sense."

The first guy – who was named something like Zealot started in. "Every noble belonged to in house consisting of two High Lines. You become a carrier of a High Line by making a successful argument to the High Royal Debate Board. To be noble, you needed to possess two Lines."

"One from the mother, one from the father."

Zealot gave a slight nod. "Yes. When we separated from the Cardassian Empire in 2242, we decided in become a society ungoverned by nobilities. We decided to eradicate the Noble Houses."

Spock broke in, "You did so by decreeing that every child was only legally related to one of its parents, so no person could inherit the two High Lines necessary for noble status. Why did you not simply eliminate the laws relating to the possession of Lines, instead modifying your inheritance laws?"

"It is seen as more economical to simply add, in our legal code, than to edit it. Erasing laws be a longer process."

Spock raised an eyebrow, but didn't otherwise comment. The ambassador continued on undeterred, "The result of this was only one parent had total legal control over a child. This system is served us well for more than fifteen years, but when we decided to attempt to join the Federation; its representatives spoke of the recent destruction of a planet whose native population went almost destroyed."

Jim looked quickly to Spock, but he didn't seem effected by the reference to Vulcan. Zealot didn't seem to have very good observational skills, and kept talking. "Our people began wondering if the present legal code would allow for the transfer of children from parent to parent, if one were killed, and we found that it didn't. So the law was returned to its original form."

Now Spock looked almost nauseous, "You altered your inheritance laws on the basis of a story of the destruction of world light years away from you, in another government? Without checking to ensure that this new ruling would interrupt the United Federation of Planets application process?"

The second liaison piped up defensively, "The process was done to haste yes, but we were very concerned."

Spock crooked a brow, "Clearly."

The native stiffened, "The loss of a homeworld may not seem like a very disturbing prospect in you, the Commander, but—"

"My homeworld was the one destroyed, and my mother was killed during its implosion. I can assure you, it is a very disturbing prospect to me still."

The entire table went dead quiet. Jim grit his teeth against an infuriated tirade.

Zealot bowed his head and spoke, "I am sorry for any implied insult. We were not informed of your connection in the destruction of the planet."

Kirk had had enough. "Everyone, shut up before we do anything else stupid. Now," he pinned the hapless ambassadors with a glare with the power to melt dilithium, "this seems like a pretty simple problem to solve. Reinstate the inheritance law. Or change the nobility requirements. Better yet, get rid of the damn things. There is almost _no chance_ of the Romulans attacking your planet. You're not anywhere _near_ them."

Both men shifted for a moment, and it was the second who finally answered. "We cannot re-apply the law without alerting the Federation to its current existence."

Kirk leaned forward, "Wait, the Fed _doesn't know?_"

"Well, if we tell them, we will be disqualified," Zealot said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world, and, maybe, this Captain person was not quite as intelligent as people had said he was.

Spock spoke first, as Jim was too busy gibbering quietly. "Then why are you informing the captain and me? We are Federation employees."

"It be…," Zealot squirmed. "It is possible there was a… a mistranslation… The ambassador who sent the request did not speak the fluent Standard. And he had little understanding of your cultures. He may have believed," he cleared his throat, "He may have believed you to be on a High Royal Debate Council… within the Federation."

Jim gibbered some more, then calmed down an asked what he believed to be the obvious question. "_Why?_"

"You were on the Board of Administrators, yes? Of a Starbase?"

The blond turned pale. "Oh my god. Admi-Nistra-Teurs."

The second liaison bowed his head. "An unfortunate coincidence, be it sure."

Kirk resumed his gibbering. Spock took over again. "You must realize that we are duty bound to report this information to Starfleet Command, who will, in turn, report to the Federation."

Both politicians nodded. "Of course."

"Than we have nothing left to discuss." He made so stand. "Do you concur, Captain?"

Jim, still stunned after being mistaken for a foreign judge of royalty, snapped back to attention and straightened. "I do, Commander."

"I apologize for any distress our arrival has or will cause you," continued Spock.

One of the statesmen shrugged, "It was not an unexpected decision."

_'Why are they so calm about that? They should be at least trying to talk us into not reporting…'_ It didn't matter now. Kirk could worry about that once they were safe on the ship. Best just to get out of here as fast as possible. He nodded shortly to the liaisons. "I'm glad you agree with our reasoning. We will report to the Federation, and they should contact you within two weeks."

The captain of the Enterprise bowed, "I hope that we will all be satisfied in the end."

The ambassadors bowed politely. Kirk as Spock walked into the adjoining room where the security team fidgeted impatiently. "We're leaving the surface, but we'll probably be orbiting for a while," Jim stated. "Everyone, get to your transporter coordinates."

While clearly curious, the team knew better than to ask questions. The crew all filed into the central meeting hall where they'd all been beamed down. The ambassadors followed the party and looked on with interest as the security personnel were beamed up according to rank, lowest to highest, per regulation, so that the most experienced people were left last to oversee the process.

These regulations did not take into account the captain and XO staying behind and beaming last. It seemed obvious that the commanding officers would go first. Indeed, few regulations took into account Captain Kirk.

One of the Zedakitians suddenly turned to Spock and asked, "You stated before that you had the basic knowledge in our tongue, and that you would improve by hearing more of the spoken language. Are you now fluent?"

The Vulcan paused and looked to the Captain for permission to respond. Kirk waved a careless 'affirmative'.

"I am now fluent in Zedakitian, for most practical purposes."

The violet dignitary then turned to Kirk, still engrossed in the oversight of the crew's safe transport, and asked a similar query, "Are you fluent in the Zedakitian, Captain?"

The last security officer finished beaming, and Jim turned to face the alien. "Hmm? Who, me? No. Unlike Mr. Spock over here," he gestured to the Commander with amusement, "it takes me a bit longer to get a new language. I'm learning, though."

The ambassador gave a slow nod. "In that case," he began, "he will stay as well."

Kirk, who'd pivoted to face the transport site, spun around. "Excuse me?"

The second politician grinned slightly, "We cannot let you return for your ship knowing it would hurt our cause. That would be…," he turned to look at the hastily restrained Vulcan First, "illogical."

.bdobd.

Kirk had made to attack before the man had finished speaking, but a silent third partner had revealed himself to be some sort of bodyguard, one capable of taking down even a desperate Vulcan. A human, even a furious one, wasn't that difficult for him to stop.

The two trussed officers had them been led to another room down a different passageway.

This room had a comm unit.

The captain had been strapped into the chair facing the video recorder and given a script. Predictably, he had refused to read it.

Spock was then forced into the chair opposite him and tied down. The delight he took in making the restraint process an extremely trying task was illogical, and would be the subject of a lengthy meditation _when _the captain managed to get the two out of this situation.

A phaser. _'Model 45-7A, approximately 1.39 years of wear, set to '_kill_', _waspressed to his head. The captain was again ordered to read.

He did so.

.bdobd.

The Terran media was infamous for its obsession with the flashy, immaterial, and improperly referenced. These obsessions were what brought the forced testimony of Capt. J. T. Kirk of 'Our Dear Ship'/'The Silver Lady' Enterprise to the Admiralty.

The Admiralty was furious. And horrified. And terribly, nauseatingly embarrassed. It was clear that someone had made a dreadful oversight, and they hoped to _god(s) _it wasn't them.

So when the reporters asked, what, you know, _happened_ to the Captain – and now, come to think of it, the First Officer, Everyone's Favorite Not-_Quite_-Fully Vulcan Commander Spock was gone too – the Admiralty blamed the Federation Council. Apparently, _'They were the ones who ordered the Enterprise to the _(explanative deleted) _Planet.'_ The outrage these comments produced totally obscured the fact that they had a point. The Admiralty also conveniently forgot to answer the question.

And when the reporters asked, the Council blamed the Enterprise crew. It was widely regarded as a suckish political move. NEVER blame the troops. Especially those on the Silver Lady. _'Why did no security officers stay with the Captain? We do not exist to _babysit_ the Enterprise, or her crew, or, for that matter, Starfleet.'_ The outrage these comments produced totally obscured the fact that they had a point. The Council also conveniently forgot to answer the question.

When the reporters asked, the crew blamed the Zedakitians. And Starfleet. And the Council, just for good measure.

'_The Zedakitian government told us they harbored no ill will towards us. Our transport order is Starfleet regulation, it's not for us to decide how we beam, _regardless of what our security detail thinks is best. _And the Council is an august body that has no business sticking its nose into Starfleet affairs. And we are looking for our Captain and First Officer. When the Admiralty, the Council, or the Zedakitian government would like to assist us with this venture, they know how to contact us.'_

The crew also conveniently forgot to answer the question.

The absence of outrage these comments produced was_ deafening_. Much was said about how much of a point the troops serving aboard Our Dear Ship had. Nothing much was said about the factual errors that were present in the statement. Anyone who spoke differently was accused of slandering the troops.

But the crew _did_ have a point.

The salaries of the reporters of Earth were significantly larger by the end of the month.

.bdobd.

Meanwhile, James Kirk was praising every deity he could think of, excluding the Klingon and Romulan ones.

Spock would be offended by him extolling the virtues of the Romulan gods. And their Cardassian hosts apparently didn't much care for the Klingons at the moment.

"You see," the captain of the Cardassian Empire's version of a 'Constitution class' starship said, "we do not like the Klingons. And we do not really enjoy your company, either. No offense, of course." She bowed her head to Kirk. Kirk was quick to assure her that no offense was taken. Wouldn't even _dream _of it. Whatever gave her that idea?

"The Empires – and the Federation – all know this, and respect it. But with the destruction of Vulcan," she nodded to Spock now, "apologies, native." He nodded back, "Accepted and appreciated, foreigner."

Kirk had the distinct impression that that sentence fell squarely into the Things Only Spock Could Say and Not Be Offensive category. And a surprisingly large category it was.

"And after the destruction of much of Starfleet, and with the Romulan government rushing to amend for damages they did not in fact cause, the Klingon Empire began to attack the Federation and the Romulan Empire."

Kirk nodded, "We know. We were the ones fighting them off."

"Successfully and bravely."

Both Starfleet officers quietly accepted the compliment.

"So successfully," the Captain continued bitterly, "that the Klingons gave up attacking the Federation and focused their attacks squarely onto Cardassia." Her officers muttered uncharitable things down at the table, though the table did not have that much to do with the current conversation.

Both Spock and Kirk were, in that moment, equally, unequivocally grateful that they were opposite the group of Cardassians. Opposite, across the very charitably long table. It was a very generous piece of furniture, especially in light of all of the abuse they were causing it at the moment.

The superior Cardasssian officer continued after the grumbling had subsided. "While you and the Romulans were expecting attacks, and armed your borders in preparation, we were not, and are now mere months away from a state of invasion."

She stopped and waited for Kirk to fill in the rest on his own. He did, and was not pleased with what he came up with. He decided to be economical and become depressed in advance. "You need help from the Federation with fighting off the Klingons."

The other captain nodded. "Yes."

Jim sighed and put his head in his hands, "Have you tried asking the Romulans for help?"

The other Captain seemed offended, "The Federation and the Cardassian empire have a history of cooperation during extreme circumstances."

"Alright, yes, but everyone and their cousin's friends know that we're, um… Kind of busy right now. And a bit low on surplus… anything military. At all. I mean, we're REALLY busy. In ten years, maybe we could help, but not right now."

The other captain did not seem pleased by this assessment.

Spock tentatively added, "The Federation possesses diplomatic ties to several Romulan border space stations. If contacting and negotiating with the Romulans is an issue, the Council could most likely be persuaded to share those connections."

Kirk had no idea how much it took for Spock to say that – something big. The Romulan Empire might not have been the ones responsible for Nero's insanity, but they sure as hell hadn't sent their condolences.

One of the Cardassian junior officers looked to the other Captain for permission to speak. She waved him on. "Communication is not an issue. It is munitions. Whatever ship attacked Vulcan was a fluke, an outlier. Romulan warships are weaker than Klingon warships. They would not be much use against the Klingons."

"So what do you want us to do?" Kirk asked. "We're of high stature within the _Enterprise_, but not within the Federation's government as a whole."

"You have the power to directly contact the Federation Council," the other captain responded.

Kirk was horrified, "Jesus Christ, you want us to _lobby _for you?"

The other captain seemed pleased that the humans had caught on so quickly. "Yes."

Spock motioned to speak, "If we agree to lobby the Council, what will you do."

"We will allow you to use a transport shuttle to return to the closest Federation holding. You may do what you wish after we have proof that you have contacted a Councilmember on our behalf."

Spock made to answer, "Councilpeople, are, inside the Federation, notoriously difficult to contact directly. Would communication with a liaison be sufficient?"

The other Captain and looked to her advisors, and there was some quiet conversation among them. Both Spock and Kirk studiously pretended that they didn't know Cardassian Prime from their stints as the head Linguistics teacher and the Treasurer of the Linguistics Club, respectively.

The other Captain turned back to her guests-captives, "That would be sufficient."

"Then when are we to leave?" asked Kirk.

"Immediately. Come," she stood, "I will leave my First Advisor to escort you."

Quickly, violently relieved that they wouldn't be held hostage for much longer, Kirk and Spock stood and bowed to the Cardassian captain. She acknowledged their deference and left, accompanied by all but one of her crewmen. The one left – presumably the First Advisor – stood impatiently (and a bit petulantly) by the exit and waved the two officers on.

They followed the Cardassian crewman down a set of oddly empty halls – the Empire probably didn't want the Federation stealing trade secrets.

The small shuttle hanger was lit with cheap orange lights and held only one transport pod. Definitely worried about leaks. The advisor brusquely punched in a security code to open the pod's door, which slid open with a hiss. The Federation men bowed again to the Cardassian, who nodded sharply, motioning them inside. He was clearly very, very, very glad that they were getting off of the ship.

Kirk sat down at the main control panel and flipped the power switch. The craft came to life with a satisfying hum.

"Are you ready, Spock?"

"Of course, Captain." The Vulcan was checking off on all of the navigation controls.

"Right," Kirk turned on the intercom, "Cardassians, we're ready to exit. Requesting Shuttlebay door open sequences."

Instead of sending the codes to the pod, the other Captain apparently ordered the doors opened from the Empire's version of a Bridge. "Standby to exit."

Kirk took over the steering, and eased the clunky pod as best he could out of the oddly proportioned exit. "Ready to activate warp."

Spock, who'd been dutifully monitoring the impulse engine outputs, swiveled towards the blond. "Sir, I need destination coordinates to direct the warp drive. What is our destination?"

"That is… a very good question." The human tapped his fingers on the edge of the control panel. "What's the nearest member planet?"

Spock seemed almost-uncomfortable. "Vulcan. Mark II."

"_What?_" Jim spun about to face the uneasy Commander and pretended that he hadn't nearly thrown himself from his chair. The damned things were built differently. "The colony's on our border? After what happened?"

"It was the best geographic match." Spock defended weakly.

"Oy. Well, they're sure to have an open frequency." He lowered his voice to a grumble, "At least, those Panic frequencies should be open. Who in their right mind – "

"I can hear you."

Jim held up his hands. "Sorry." He sighed. "Fine. We'll go to the colony. We don't have enough for a long-distance trip to Orion or Starbase IV."

"Logical." Spock turned and tapped a few controls on the console in front of him. The course has been laid in."

Jim grinned, "That was quick." He spun back to face the main viewscreen. "Let's go!"

The points of the stars became streaks of light as the Cardassian shuttle craft warped to Vulcan Mark II.

.bdobd.


	6. Almost Triumphant Returns

A/N:

Matricide: Killing of one's mother.

Hemorrhage: death by bleeding, specifically from lack of blood flow to the brain.

.bdobd.

While the Vulcans weren't exactly ecstatic to seen them, they weren't really disapproving either, which probably meant that they were as close to jumping for joy as they ever got.

No one would tell Jim exactly what had been said of his disappearance, and they wouldn't let him contact the Fleet before the High Council had told the Federation that they'd found him – a very old regulation having to do with member planets and mining resources, apparently, but one that also applied to Fleet captains as well. Knowing how bad the Fed Council was about cleaning its books, Jim could believe it. In any case, he wasn't really that worried.

Really, how badly could you screw up a transmission of good news?

.bdobd.

In all fairness, it wasn't really the yeoman's fault. He'd been told that Vulcans didn't show that much emotion, but the breadth of this fact clearly hadn't been stressed enough. He also hadn't been informed of their odd talent of making every statement sound like a mortician taking roll call:

_"Stevens: Dead of age. Jefferies: Dead of drowning. Janave: Dead of matricide; subsection stab wounds, hemorrhage._"This was a Vulcan 'neutral' tone. So when the Vulcan liaison had contacted, saying that the High Council "knew of Kirk's location" the yeoman'd somehow gotten the impression that the Vulcan was calling to report that they knew the location of _pieces _of Kirk. That Kirk was, in fact, dead.

But what the yeoman did _next _was entirely his fault, and was the official reason that he was fired: he reported to the Admiralty, then called the Terran media to lament the death of the late, great Captain Kirk.

.bdobd.

"Wait – he's _what_?"

"You didn't know?" the reporter seemed genuinely amazed, "It's all over the news."

Tishri shook her head. "But Kirk… dead? How could that _be?_" He'd always seemed too tough for something as banal as death.

"That's what the Vulcans say." The reporter looked back to her notes, "Can I put you down as not knowing anything?"

The Andorian was distracted, trying to remember the High Council's new comm number. "Yeah, say what you want."

"Thanks!" the reporter chirped.

"No problem, Nowmi. Tishri out."

"Nowmi out," and the connection was cut. The Andorian was already typing in the VHC's number, and quickly got an almost-frazzled Vulcan operator.

"The High Council is very busy at the moment. And will not be able to take personal calls for approximately 7.3 hours. I have the ability to report a message to them, if you would like to leave one."

Tishri took a moment to be amused at the characteristically long-winded message. "Hi, I'm Tishri, former Senior Andorian Councilwoman of Andorian. I'm calling for access for a more detailed account of Captain James Tiberius Kirk's death. Can I see anything now?"

The Vulcan was opening his mouth to answer when there was a commotion off to one side – "Here, wait, lemme do this –"

Then, Kirk popped onto her viewscreen.

"Captain! You're alive! That's a relief."

He rolled his eyes, "Some idiot misunderstood the Vulcan's transmission, I'm fine. Do me a favor – tell Mom I'm ok before she gets a call? I don't want her freaking our."

"Will do. Anything else?"

"Call Earth's AP office, tell'em I'm alright. Give them Pikes' number, he has the official explanation."

"Anything else?"

"Oh! Almost forgot. Get Pike to tell my crew I'm alright."

"That it?"

"That's it. Thanks Tishri, you're the best."

She grinned. "Damn straight. Tishri out."

"Kirk out."

.bdobd.

Kirk and Spock were kept on Vulcan for the remainder of the week before being beamed back onto the Enterprise. Oddly, no media contact was allowed while in residence on the colony.

The repercussions of this rule were made clear by the emotional reactions from the crew.

"Captain! So glad to have you back sir, we were getting worried."

"Commander Spock, I'm so happy to know you're on board."

"Captain Kirk, sir! Just wanted to say that Security's really happy to see you again."

Kirk kept outwardly cheerful – smiling and thanking all of the will-wishers – but Spock could see that he was hiding a not inconsiderable amount of fury. Was the captain not pleased by his crew's positive feelings towards him?

The Vulcan kept silent until the two entered an empty turbolift.

"Captain," he started slowly, "you are – you seem to be negatively affected by the crew's comments."

Kirk's jaw tightened, and his hands clenched slightly. "Who the hell kept them from knowing I was alright? Who forgot to tell my own fucking crew that their captain was alive? I told Tishri to contact Pike, that should've been the end of this!"

Kirk's commitment to his crew was a factor that should never be overlooked when attempting to predict his emotional state. Spock had forgotten this.

"They did not seem surprised to see that you were still alive. Merely expressing relief that at your return to the Enterprise and overall well-being. Perhaps they believed you housed in sub-par conditions? If that were so, then Pike would not be able to assuage these fears. Regulations do not allow for an Admiral to share information of a hostage situation with those of lesser rank."

The blond did not seem mollified, "But they shouldn't have had to worry, I was _fine_."

"It is illegal to make a statement either way. The media was probably directed to withhold your exact location so as to foil another kidnap attempt by the Zedakitian government."

Kirk's head hit the turbolift wall with a dull _thunk_. "I know. That's why it's so goddamned annoying. It's a stupid law."

"I am not one of its advocates. But it is still in existence, any personal preferences notwithstanding."

Kirk smiled slightly. "Yeah, I know." He turned and lightly tapped Spock's shoulder. "Thanks though."

The turbolift doors opened to the bridge, and the commander saw his captain tense again as his joyous crew welcomed him with a relief that should not have existed.

.bdobd.

The first thing Jim did after his shift was to go find McCoy. If he was going to be forcibly sedated, he didn't want to collapse on the bridge. The floor was very uncomfortable.

"BONES!" Beaming and shouting, the blond cheerfully strode into Sickbay, catching the medical secretary off guard. "Sorry!" The man smiled and waved him on, "Doctor McCoy's in his office. Would you like to be announced?"

"Course not! Ruins the fun."

He smiled again. "Yes, sir."

Kirk shot him another smile and strolled over to Bones' office. Not bothering to knock, he threw open the old-fashioned door, terrifying the innocent CMO.

"Bones, old buddy old pal! How've you been?"

The doctor wasn't stunned for long, he recovered quite admirably, "Jim, what the _hell_ are _you_ doing here? Usually I have to drag you in here, by your ankles, kicking and screaming and –"

The blond flopped melodramatically against the doorframe. "You _wound_ me! I've come down here before –,"

"Kicking and screaming," Bones finished flatly. He stood up from his desk chair and started towards the cabinet on the other side of the room. "Sit down, I'll get you a drink."

Jim grinned, "In the middle of the day? Why, Leonard McCoy, I never–"

Sorting through the cabinet, Bones shot his response over his shoulder, "Oh, shut up, it's non-alcoholic, you twit."

Jim laughed and looked to the chair closest to him, which was piled high with forms, just like all of the other vaguely horizontal surfaces in the office were. He took a few pages off of the top of the stack, looked around, and, seeing the state of the rest of the room, gingerly put them back on the top of the pile. "Where do you want all this shit to go?"

"Anywhere. Floor's your best bet, at this point."

"Righto." The blond grabbed the tower and dropped it next to the chair with a satisfying _thwack_. "You know, there's this lovely new device called a computer. It came out a little while ago. Maybe you should try it."

McCoy strode back, drinks in hand. "Don't trust those things. Lose files. Crash. Better to stick with good old fashioned paper."

Jim took the proffered glass and scanned the office again, which, by the look of it, was the result of the explosion of a large and reputable library. "And how's that working out for you?"

"Oh, shut up. I poured for you." Bones plopped down in his desk chair, "Now, whaddaya want?"

Jim slumped further back into his own seat, "Why's my crew so worried?"

Bones shook his head, "Whoever was in charge of PR while you were gone needs to be fired. Really, really badly."

"That bad?"

"Christ, you have _no _idea. The reporters were fucking hysterical. Politicians kept coming out and saying how concerned they were, and the media would cover that. Then a different guy would come out and say how Guy 1 was all wrong, and then that'd be covered, prompting 1 to come out and defend himself, bringing, of course, Guys 3 through 5 for backup…"

"And so on, and so on, and so on." Kirk's tone was grim, "But that happens all of the time. That's not new. What was different this time?"

"Usually the super-patriots go and protect the Fleet from anything too nasty, but it was the super-patriots who were pissed, and that's never really happened before." Bones drained his glass. It would've been a bit more meaningful were it not filled with cranberry juice.

"What were they saying? What were they trying to prove?"

"That the Fleet are callous, heartless bastards that've only cared about your wellbeing for this long because you're popular. That the Fleet doesn't deserve you. That if you'd died, nothing would've been done about it, and if you'd been hurt they wouldn't've cared."

Jim was quiet. Bones tilted his head to the side and continued gently, "They had a point. Fleet regs say that the life of one crewman can't govern diplomatic actions, that if a captain's wounded he's to be relieved of command while in recovery."

"But… all of those rules make_ sense_."

"To us. The guys inside. To the others," Bones gestured grandly, "To the great unwashed, the common citizen, hoi polloi, those rules sound cruel. You know that. You were furious when regs said that we had to leave Pike behind on the _Narada_, remember?"

"Alright, but both I and the common citizen are occasionally stupid. Everyone knows that. In fact, most of the common citizens know that."

Bones shrugged. "Well, yeah. That's why we have politicians. To make all of the hard decisions while we bitch about the latest whatever, and what a horrible job they're doing."

Jim snorted, then nodded. "Course, the politicians are all common citizens too."

The doctor smirked/ "Well, why do you think they're all so stupid."

Jim sighed, twirling his glass fitfully. "How's the crew been otherwise?"

"Decent. Spock's good at his job, even if he hates it."

"Yeah?"

"You know him and command. He wouldn't even sit in the chair, half the time?"

Jim smiled. "The captain's chair? Aww. He's sweet."

Bones raised an eyebrow. Jim frowned and pointed an authoritative finger at his face. "Hey. None of that. I already have one best friend with an Evil Eyebrow, and I only barely survive his wrath. I sure as hell don't need two of you."

.bdobd.

Kirk left Sickbay feeling much reassured in the knowledge that he wasn't the only person that thought people were stupid. He went back to his quarters and sat on the bed for a while trying to figure out what to do next.

He finally hit upon comming Pike, the one Admiral who might actually tell him what the fuck happened. If it was anything that was supposed to be pundit-proof, it was people's opinions on war and peace.

Kirk was feeling rather pleased with himself as he punched in Pike's comm number, a feeling that was broken by what answered the extension code. Instead of the Admiral's face, or a recorded voice message, there were a few lines of text:

This number has been secured.

Please do not attempt to reestablish contact with this number.

Thank you.

.bdobd.

Jim was still digesting the fact that Pikes' _personal extension _was locked – his _private _number, not that awful public one – when the comm _wheep_ed a 'call waiting'. Jim answered without checking caller id, and immediately regretted it.

"Tom! Hey, um, how've you been?"

Thomas Leighton seemed unconcerned by Kirk's decidedly lackluster greeting. "Oh, you know, keeping busy. Hey, 'd you hear about 41 Beta?"

Jim blinked. That was the _last _thing he'd been expecting. "Well, no, I haven't really been able to see much news. Why, what happened?"

"The application's been 'Rescheduled', says the Fed."

"What? Why?"

"Public outcry," Leighton seemed almost smug, "I'd hate to be on Starbase XI right now, I hear they're getting swamped."

"Where'd you hear that?"

Leighton cocked his head. "Hear what?"

"About the Base, you say they're being swamped. Who told you?"

Leighton blinked, "I just assumed… They've been in the news quite a bit lately…"

"Whatever." The blond sighed. "This shouldn't be happening."

"Hmm?"

"No one person's supposed to direct diplomatic actions."

"The _kidnapped you_. And Spock. That's two people. Anyway, that law's never been enforced, you know that."

"Damn it, this isn't the way these things are built to work. How're the Zedakitians taking it?"

"They're pissed, but they've been keeping quiet. There're rumors that they're worried about a full-scale investigation into their government –"

Kirk snorted. Leighton soldiered on.

"–and that's why they're keeping it zipped." He looked positively gleeful, "God, I'd _hate_ to be on a Base right now!"

Kirk chose not to comment. "Anything else big, going back about two weeks?"

"You heard about Arya?"

The blond sighed, "No, but I can only imagine."

Leighton rolled his eyes, "She's set herself up as a tell-all. Fired for knowing too much, the whole thing."

"_Her?_" Kirk was incredulous, "She doesn't know shit about Beta!"

"What do you mean? She was your Second, wasn't she?"

"For like, two seconds."

"How'd she strike you?"

"Doesn't know Fleet regs, knows Fed rules backwards. Young. Green. Inexperienced."

"Humm." Tom seemed contemplative. "Alright. Well?" He suddenly slapped his palms on his desk, "Nice talking to you!"

Jim blinked. Shit. What had he just said? "Um. Yeah. You too…"

"Leighton out."

This was going to end so badly. "Oh, alright then. Kirk out." Kirk saw the connection cut, and sat quietly, totally confused and completely convinced that he'd just done something incredibly stupid.

.bdobd.

Leighton's plan became obvious the next day, towards the end of Beta shift. Jim was in his quarters reviewing Scotty's proposed modifications on the transporter's main conduits – the damned thing kept on shorting out at inopportune moments – when he heard a knock on the door. He opened it befuddled – he was off duty now, not to be bothered, and there wasn't a klaxon…

"Oh! Hello, Spock.'

The Vulcan was clearly, subtly upset. "Captain, there is a press conference currently in session that I believe you should see."

Jim blinked. "Oh. Alright then." He looked back to his desk at the unfinished reports. "Can it wait like, fifteen minutes? This really shouldn't take –"

"Captain, it would be most beneficial to you if you came immediately."

Spock had just _interrupted_ a senior officer. Something was _really_ wrong. "I'm coming."

Jim followed the commander into the lift, "Who's giving the press conference?"

"Former Governor Leighton."

Blue eyes widened. "Oh, _shit_ that's bad. What's the topic?"

The lift doors opened to a row of rec rooms, "The reported subject was the Zedakitian application, but as of yet he has neglected to mention the planet. His speech… varies greatly in topics, but seems to be focused on his time on Starbase XI and its current and former Boardmembers."

Spock paused outside of one of the rooms and motioned for Kirk, the superior, to enter first. "He is… He has much to say on the matter."

The room was filled with crewpeople all grimly, intently focusing on the holoscreen tuned to a clearly agitated Thomas Leighton, who was gesturing wildly.

"You have heard the story," he was saying, "of how Madam Tishri, Ms. Arya, and Captain Kirk actively worked to usurp the honored Commandant. Arya has spoken of her innocence, but I have proof of her guilt, as has Madam Tishri, who can easily be exposed. And James Kirk has stayed conspicuously silent about the whole thing, I believe him to be hiding something, he's always –"

"It's _illegal_ for him to talk you ass, you know he can't say anything!" Uhura had apparently, finally snapped at the governor's last comment, She whirled about to pace, arms tight about her chest, "The captain can't do anything back! That bastard he's attacking the only person who can't respond!"

The Admiralty had ordered Kirk not to contact the media until the whole Zedakite thing blew over. Jim'd known that'd gotten out, but not that his _crew _knew that he'd been muzzled. Somehow that made it all worse.

Sulu's face was pinched and his voice was tight, "That's why he's doing it. He knows that if the captain could respond he'd be destroyed, so he's doing all of it while he's still not allowed to talk." The helmsman pressed himself backwards into the couch, "It's so transparent it's disgusting."

Spock silently stepped forward so that he was standing by the back of the couch, leaving Kirk alone and unnoticed in the back of the room. "Has the former governor made any mention of planed 41 Beta during my absence?"

"Not a damn one," Bones, who was also on the couch, ground out. "Apparently he's been too busy blaming Jim to actually go out and form an opinion about it."

An ensign from engineering – Ensign Marcae? – suddenly spoke up from a chair at a table next to the couch, "Here, he's taking questions, the idiot, maybe one of the reporters can ask him for us."

"If thy dahn't, ah'll kill 'ehm." Scotty's threat was an empty one, but the sentiment was clearly popular.

"Ms. Aykoe, WacoNews."

"Thank you, Mr. Leighton. What is your opinion on planet 41 Beta's recent violence towards Captain Kirk?"

"I think that it shows the hidden hostility that the Zedakitians are holding. But I can't believe they weren't stopped sooner, what happened to that fabulous Vulcan First Officer?"

Hisses erupted from the Enterprise crew. "That _disgusting _little _prick!_" Kirk finally spoke, "How _dare _you, you do NOTtalk about _my _crew like that! What the _fucking hell_ do you propose he do, we were surrounded, we didn't have phasers, I'd like to see you'd've done in the _exact same situation! _In fact, I _know_ what you'd do! You'd run, that's what you've done for fucking _years –!_"

Kirk broke off at the stunned looks he was getting from the rest of the room's occupants. Spock's was a bit more restrained, but it was still there. He'd known that Kirk was there, so why –

_Shit_ how much did he _know? _He was smart, he could connect the dots; running, scars, phasers…

The bridge crew sitting on the sofa snapped to attention, "Captain, sir, we –"

Kirk waved a hand in faux nonchalance. "Calm down. I'm not mad at _you_." He glared at the governor, who was busy dodging the reporter's questions. "It's that lying hypocrite I'm pissed at."

Spock, calm as ever, asked, "What it there to be done about the former governor?"

Kirk shrugged helplessly, "Uhura was right. There's nothing to do. I've been ordered not to say anything, I break that, and Leighton'll have something real to bitch about. Anyway, there's the case, too, I can't prejudice any potential jury members."

"A vhat?" Chekov, who'd been busy giving the screen the evil eye, moved see Kirk. "I hawe not heird about an inwestigation."

"Really?" Jim was surprised, "It wasn't exactly a secret – oh! I bet it was marked Commander rank and above just recently, for jury selection. I trust you guys, but don't spread this too far: Leighton's being investigated for corruption."

Three seated Lieutenants stood as a chime rang through the room. "Gamma shift, gotta go."

Uhura and a few of the other officers waved. "See ya."

"Bye."

Spock walked over to the now-vacant table and sat. Jim followed and lounged next to him. "Barnett and Pike opened an inquiry into Leighton's time on the Base, If I have any information about his behavior during then, I have to get official permission from the Council to say it, to make sure that the jurors aren't corrupted. So I can't respond to anything he says about his time on the Base."

"Bastard." It was odd, hearing Sulu curse.

"Yep. But he –"

_kih kih_

Kirk flipped open his communicator, "Yes?"

"Message for you, on the confidential line, priority 2. It's from Madam Tishri."

Kirk turned his head away from the device's pickup, swore softly and fiercely, and then responded. "Thank you Yeoman."

"Of course, sir."

Jim flipped his communicator shut with a frown, "Sorry, I gotta take this. Tishri's gonna need talking down."

"A most illogical statement," Spock responded, "I have heard of no incidents in which soothing conversation changes one's position."

Jim leered. "You haven't seen a smooth talker, then,"

He got blinked at. It was probably an irritated blink, but then, hey, who could tell? "Oh, come on, you know I'm kidding." He stood and waved down the crew when they began to stand, "Please, come off it. You know I hate that."

Bones rolled his eyes and plopped back down with a huff, "Damn right you do."

Jim laughed and took the lift to a communications room and began speaking as he sat down. "Computer, lock doors, Captain's authority." The doors _fwoosh_ed shut softly.

"Computer, intercept all messages pending for Captain James T. Kirk, code Alpha-Alpha-Kappa-Nine-Delta."

"Channel opened to frequency 11-A-4, Starbase XI, Second chair of the Administrative Board," pinged the computer. An angry Tishri appeared on the screen.

"Kirk, did you see the conference?"

Jim shook his head, "Only the last ten minutes of it." The he grinned, "And good evening to you too, Tishri."

The older woman flapped a hand, "Yes, yes, and to you. Is there anything we can do about it?"

"Nope. All of the information belongs to the Fed first, we can't say anything till we testify."

Tishri growled, "That bastard. I hope he gets stuck in a penal colony for ten million years; see if he's evolved any decency by the end of it."

"Oh, come on. He didn't call you a quiet coward."

"No, just a regular old traitor." She sighed and slumped backwards. Kirk cocked his head.

"You alright?"

"Just tired. The Terran media's loving the Leighton drama, but the Andorian sharks are just adoring Arya's speeches."

Jim winced sympathetically, "Well that sucks. Speeches about you, I'm guessing?"

"Yep."

"Ouch. Hey, at least they don't translate all of those. Aren't something like 40% of Andorian speeches only ever shown on Andoria?"

"Something like that, yeah. Hey," she leaned forward, "what do you think about this whole Leighton thing? You knew him personally, right?"

Kirk held up his hands, "Last time I answered that kinda question a lot of bad things happened. I'll pass."

Tishri smiled wearily, "Leighton."

"You know it."

"Fucker."

"Yep."

The Andorian sighed again, "I gotta go, reports to be written, all that jazz. It was good talking to you."

"You too. Good luck with that paperwork."

Tishri snorted, "Don't I know it. Your mother's a drill sergeant."

Jim grinned, "Don't I know it. Kirk out."

"Tishri out."

.bdobd.

Rather surprisingly, the press conference didn't have much of an effect on the daily lives of the Enterprise crew as a whole. Reporters called, anger was expressed, reporters hung up.

No, what had an effect on the crew was that supposedly secure conversation that'd apparently taken place right after the press conference, the call between Tishri and Kirk.

That conversation that could only've been leaked by some one on the Enterprise.

.bdobd.


	7. Borderline Irritation

A/N:

Private citizens can make deals with foreign governments much easier than public entities can. I figure that at some point the Federation would just throw up its hands and ruled that private citizens could deal with whomever the hell they wanted to, as long as they didn't involve anyone else in it. 'Involvement' can include letting others know about said deals; therefore, citizens can deal with whomever they please as long as they hush up about it.

Rationalization: _reasoning_ is figuring out why to do something, _rationalizing_ is doing something and then, later, going back and making up a reason why you did it.

.bdobd.

"It is clear from the quality of both the sound and video that the tape was taken directly from the Enterprise's records. Either the computer was hacked after the file was saved, or the frequencies were intercepted while the conversation was in progress."

Spock paused the video and turned from his captain to face the security screens. "There is no other explanation for the superior clarity of the picture here," the Vulcan pointed to a pair of frozen Andorian antennae, where all of the individual segments could be seen, "and here," now pointing to a lock of blond hair, perfectly rendered.

Spock pivoted back to his captain. "The leak is one of the crew. A device capable of intercepting the frequencies utilized during the conversation does not exist in Federation space."

Kirk looked helpless, "Is there any way to tell who sent the tapes?" He sounded distressed and tired, which had been his apparent mental state for the entirety of the time that the tape had been released to the Federation Independent Press.

"No sir. They –"

"Jim. Not sir, not right now." The Vulcan flinched internally at the exhaustion present in the captain's – Jims' – tone. _'Highly illogical. I must meditate.'_

"Jim. Whoever sent the records must have first loaded them onto an independent memory drive, negating the creation of any data trail, for one has not been found."

"Fuck." Jim sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. "What should I tell the Fleet then? They're out for blood."

"Illogical. An official search for a security breach does not preclude physical violence." Spock stared at the look of sympathy frozen on Jim's face on the security screen. "Starfleet Command will have seized the original file. I would recommend that they continue to examine that information."

"Jesus Christ." He'd smiled briefly at the 'illogical' statement, but was again distressed, "Mom's not going to accept that."

Spock pivoted to face him. "What does you mother's opinion matter in the investigation?"

"She'd the one who started it. Her Second and her former First chairs talking about her former Third… she's got a lot invested in this case."

"Does her familial relation to you alter the command structure?"

"No, but it's not that simple." Jim sighed and slumped heavily into a chair. It was a position totally dissimilar from his usual comfortable sprawl, "She knows how to… Express her displeasure with me without actually saying anything. She knows what buttons to push."

The Vulcan's lips thinned, "Is there any method to ensure that she does not behave in this manner?"

Jim seemed surprised, "Um, no. Not that I know of."

"Would you prefer that I report to your mother?"

"I – what?" He'd clearly not been expecting such an offer. "Isn't that against regulations?"

"No. The captain is the preferred liaison in ship-to-base contact, but not the only one. Senior officers may communicate instead, if the situation requires it."

"Oh." He looked to the floor, apparently attempting to see if the correct answer was written between his splayed feet. "That would… Actually, that'd be really nice." He refocused, suddenly, back on Spock, and smiled. "I'd really appreciate that."

"Then I shall go report, sir." Spock bowed.

Jim smiled broadly, "I know you'll do a great job."

Spock exited and tried to find a rational reason for his sudden relief.

.bdobd.

While Mrs. Kirk was not particularly pleased with Spock's unfortunately sparse report, she was understanding and cordial.

The media was not so forgiving.

The media became especially unsympathetic when another message, this one from the Vulcan High Council, was leaked.

.bdobd.

The Vulcans, as Kirk came to understand, had commed Barnett to offer their sympathy with the Commandant had encountered in "the situation revolving around former Councilwoman Tishri, former governor Thomas Leighton, and Ms. Arya."

The message had apparently been recorded a few days after the press conference, which was the real cause for all of the commotion. The message was characteristically devoid of political incorrectness, but the fact that anyone besides the recorder and the receiver know of that was rather disturbing.

Everyone had assumed that this person had only wanted to record the Kirk/Tishri conversation. But this tape showed that (s)he was still at it, and, since the transmission hadn't gone through the Enterprise, that this was a Federation-wide issue.

So when the Cardassians called Kirk about their deal, he was understandably nervous.

The Cardassians were, just as understandably, exasperated.

"Why do you refuse to discuss this? It is legal to make private deals with foreign governments, yes?"

Jim winced. "Yes, of course it is. And usually this wouldn't be an issue. But lately there've been leaks of confidential conversations inside of the Federation, if this were to be recorded and released, it would become illegal."

The Cardassian captain raised a haughty brow, "An inefficient and broken system, you use."

"Not usually, but every government has its highs and lows."

"Accepted," she nodded. "Now, what are you to do about our deal?"

"I'll get on it right away, I'm genuinely sorry it's taken me this long."

The alien paused for a moment. "…Accepted."

Kirk sighed internally. "I have an unrelated query."

The Cardassian blinked. "Ask it, and I shall answer."

"How'd you know Spock and I were with the Zedakitians?"

"You were forced to record a video, what was judged to be a false confession. That is against the Cardassian Code of Conduct. We saw your testimony on our channel and traced it to its source."

Kirk was taken aback. "Channel? What channel?"

The other Captain seemed surprised, "Our channel between ourselves and the Zedakitians. They must have forgotten its existence when they were transmitting the video."

"… How long's this channel been open?"

"Oh, many years. There was never any reason to close it."

.bdobd.

Pike did not seem to aspire to the other captain's theory. "They kept an open frequency even after they left the Empire?"

"So they say. 'Never any reason to close it,' according to their captain."

"Never any –! That's a direct violation of application laws! No contact with opposing governments!"

Jim shrugged, "I know. I think they did to, to be honest."

"Why those…" Pike turned his head away from the microphone pickup, but his tone was pretty telling.

Eventually the Admiral turned back to the screen. "Hey, what were you doing calling the Cardassians, anyway?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask that. I made a deal with them to get them to drop Spock and me off: I lobby the Council for them, we get to steer the shuttle."

"Lobby for what?"

"Ships. The Klingons can't attack us or the Romulans, so they're invading Cardassia. They didn't prepare."

Pike seemed amused. "The Federation being attacked by the Romulans would make the Klingons go after the Cardassians."

Jim grinned. "I know, right? Anyway, so they want me to lobby the Council."

Pike frowned, "Captains can't lobby until they're three years out of the line of combat."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Well _don't tell the Cardassians,_ for god's sakes. They never said when I had to start lobbying. Exactly."

"Ah. I see."

"But I feel bad about not doing anything, I thing they actually really need those ships."

"Humm. I could try to get a Convention set up, bring some negotiators together."

Jim beamed, "That'd be fantastic! Could you mention it at the next meeting?"

"Sure, no problem."

"You better believe it. Hey, I've been meaning to ask: how's your mother been?"

"Mom?" Not a question he'd been expecting. "She's ok, I guess. Keeping busy. Keeping others busy."

The Admiral smiled nostalgically, "Yeah, she's always been good at that."

Jim tilted his head to one side and stared for a moment, making Pike self-conscious.

"What?"

"You want her private extension?"

"_What?_"

"I'm sure she'd like to hear from you, she's always complaining about how no one ever comms her."

"Kirk, you can't just give out your mother's number, who know what could –,"

"I'm sending it now."

"Kirk! That's totally inappropriate!"

"And…Receiving… Aww, you accepted it, you hoary old codger." Jim was grinning again.

"Oh, shut up." Pike groused, "Never let a woman's number go to waste."

"That's the spirit!" Kirk chirped, "Good luck."

"Good luck with what?" Pike asked, confused. Kirk flapped a hand in a manner eerily reminiscent of his mother.

"Oh, you'll find out. Kirk out."

"Arrogance is a _bad thing_, Kirk. Pike out."

.bdobd.

To Jim's great relief (and surprise), the two messages involving the Cardassians were not given to the reporters. Instead, it was good old-fashioned investigative journalism that revealed that 41 Beta's application had been a ruse by the Cardassian Empire to learn Federation secrets. In a fit of temper, the Council cancelled both the membership application _and _the Convention plans.

This, of course, sent the politicians into a frenzy, this one supporting the move, this one against it, the majority of them screaming, and almost no one of them saying anything of any real substance, because almost no one of them really understood what the hell was going on. Those that did understand were roundly ignored.

Two of the loudest screamers were Leighton and Arya. Leighton was all for pulling the application, while Arya was completely against it. As is the nature of such disagreements, the two 'adults' almost immediately turned to calling each other names, which prompted a groan from the Starbase XI staff and a collective head-desk from the Starfleet Admiralty.

The Admiralty had been hoping for people who didn't know jack shit about an issue to own up and get out of the way of those who were actually trying to help, but this clearly was not going to happen, as was customary.

The Cardassians became rather huffy about the whole thing, saying that "it is not our concern if the Federation fails to check the communications of a member applicant. The Zedakitians could have terminated the channel at any time." This statement was so categorically true that the Federation Council became wildly offended and asked the Fleet if it could please send some ships over to the border, just to piss the Empire off.

No one had really expected the Cardassians to respond. There were wrong.

.bdobd.

Kirk stared grimly at the Cardassian warships. "Science. Report."

Spock was peering down at one of his numerous terminals, "There is no energy being directed towards the ship's phaser or photon torpedo banks. Their shields are at maximum, but otherwise they using their engines for life support, shipwide communications, and to hold their position."

"That makes no sense." Captain Mahor of the starship _Illustrious _was on conference call, as benefiting a fellow member of a temporary troop. "What reason could they have for just… Sitting there?"

Captain Pachek, also on call, gloomily responded. "The same reason we're here. To look scary."

Mahor seemed offended, "We are here to guard the borders, not to 'look scary'."

Pachek groaned, "Defend against what? There was no original reason to be out here, no one knew the guys even had these ships!"

"Well then it's a good thing we came, isn't it."

Spock, who'd moved so stand next to the captain's chair, raised and eyebrow. Kirk fought a grin. If there was anything the commander hated, it was rationalization. "Come on, let's not argue. We're in a crisis, whether or not we agree on how we got into one. Now. What do we want to do?"

"I say keep shields up and don't shoot. They haven't do anything to us, I won't be the first to fire," Mahor quickly answered.

Pachek nodded, "I agree. I say, let them make the first move."

"I'm with you guys. Our shields are stronger then theirs anyway." Kirk turned to Uhura. "Tell Engineering to keep shields at maximum, but to stop phaser and torpedo charges."

Uhura nodded a quick, "Yes, Captain," and swiveled back to her station to relay the order.

Pachek spoke again, "What are we to do in the meanwhile? We could be here for days."

Kirk didn't quite shrug, but the sentiment was there. "I'm keeping to yellow alert. No reason to worry the crew unnecessarily."

"I am in agreement. Commander Tikaihl, Yellow Alert." Pachek's Communications officer set to work.

Mahor seemed concerned, "Is this all we can do? It feels lacking in some way."

Uhura motioned to respond, and Kirk let her speak. "Our team is working to decode the Cardassians' communication and cloaking frequencies right now, we should break through in about five hours."

Mahor nodded, mollified, "That is acceptable. Best wishes to you and your ship, Captain Kirk."

Kirk nodded, "To you and yours, Captain Mahor."

"We will be closely scanning the Cardassians' fuel supply, they may be fueled by Rigellian dilithium."

"Alright, sounds good. Best wishes to you and your crew."

"To you and yours, Captain."

Then connections were cut in unison. Kirk slumped and stared out at the disturbingly still warship. Spock was the first to break the silence. "I had not known that Rigel was again being mined illegally."

Kirk swiveled to face the Vulcan. "Nothing official, but there've been rumors. Rigel's always under suspicion, though."

"Indeed." Spock turned to look out at the Cardassian ship. "I believe this vessel to be the same one that picked us up from planet 41 Beta."

"Really?" Kirk zoomed in on the ship's hull from his chair's camera controls. "Well, what'd you know. How interesting."

"Sir," Uhura had a hand to her earpiece as she spoke. "Communications reports having broken the Cardassian cipher. The ships' transmitting something now sir."

"Put it on audio, translated."

There was a brief crackle of static, then a computer's voice jerkily started speaking. It had to pause several times as it worked out the translation over the loudspeakers.

"Attention, crew of the Journey. We are facing the Federation Empire's fleet. They have not moved to attack. As they still have the _ability-potential-prowess-smugness _potential power to harm us, we are still at Alert Level Three.

"Also: Remember: Do not use replicator 4. Replicator 4 is broken. Do not attempt to repair replicator 4 yourself. We will send _Engineers-Technicians-Plumbers-Gynecologists _Engineers to fix replicator 4. Do. Not. Use. It. It begets a situation that is unpleasant for the rest of the crew.

"Finally, for all dwellers of the South-Western hemisphere, have a satisfactory –" the computer's voice was suddenly replaced by the native speakers – apparently it couldn't find a suitable translation, "_K'Lay'Tawhr_," the computer's translation returned, "Celebration. Consequences for overindulgence will be swift and unpleasant. That is all."

The bridge was dead quiet for a full minute. "Lieutenant," Kirk finally said, "what time is it on the Cardassian clock?"

"0700 hours, sir."

"So… Those were the Cardassian morning announcements?"

Uhura peered closely at the typed, untranslated version of the original message. "It would… appear so, sir."

.bdobd.

It took three days for something interesting to happen. A Klingon cruiser dropped out of warp just outside the Vulcan Colony's standard orbit. This was classified as 'Red Alert' level interesting.

The Enterprise got contact dibs because her first officer was Vulcan – which was an admittedly dubious reason, but it convinced Pachek, so hey? Why complain. It didn't take long to establish a channel.

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS _Enterprise_, what the _fuck_ are you doing in our space?" Alright. So, it wasn't regulation. But fuckit, it worked. The Klingon seemed unimpressed.

"We are the ship _Victory_. I am Captain Tahn. The Vulcan High Council asked us to appear. For… protective purposes." He smiled nastily. "Apparently, they don't feel safe, with only _three_ of your ships here."

"_What?_ What are you getting out of this?"

"Joint use of Starbase XI, split Federation/Klingon use equally."

_"WHAT?"_ Kirk looked sharply to Uhura, "Contact Starfleet, see what they know."

The Klingon was clearly relishing the confusion his arrival had caused, "Really, an Admiralty not communicating with its ships is –"

"Sir, the Admiralty wants a conference call, now," Uhura interrupted urgently.

"Do it," Kirk ordered, and then turned to Spock, "Your father's on the High Council, right?"

"Captain, I an assure you, I had no information relating to the possible appearance of a Klingon cruiser communicated to me at any time."

Commandant Barnett suddenly opened a connection, "What the HELL is going on?" He caught sight of the Klingon Captain, "And who the fuck are you?"

Kirk started talking before the two began fighting (more), "He's the captain of the Klingon cruiser that popped up behind the Vulcan Colony, he says the High Council asked for his protection."

Barnett looked apoplectic, "_What?_ Three constitution class starships weren't enough protection for them?"

Spock motioned to speak, but Kirk waved him down, "The captain," he nodded towards the now huffy Tahn, "says that the Vulcans promised equal inhabitation rights to Starbase XI."

"_WHAT?_"

"Well, not Starbase XI specifically," the foreign captain added, "any one of our choosing."

"Kirk, I want you to open this channel to the High Council, and don't take no for an answer."

Kirk nodded, "Uhura?"

"On it sir."

Everyone waited tensely (excepting Tahn, who was doing the Klingon equivalent of smirking and twisting the end of his non-existent mustache) for a few minutes while Uhura coaxed a council member to speak with a furious commandant, a confused Kirk, and a smug Klingon. Eventually, an old Vulcan man was bullied into opening a frequency. "I am council member Nevak. You require information."

"A deal? With the _Klingons?_" Barnett hissed.

Nevak seemed resigned, "We felt that the Colony would be put in jeopardy if a fight were to begin. We attempted," his tone wasn't accusatory, his words did that work for him, "to have Starfleet to send us a guardian ship, but our request was refused. We next went to the Klingon Empire, and found them willing to negotiate a deal,"

Kirk was now just as angry as Barnett, "So you sacrificed a Starbase? You can't do that, that's illegal."

"Only now that you know of it."

"No. Actually." Kirk was speaking through gritted teeth, "Actually, as you are a public governmental agency, it was illegal _LONG BEFORE_ we knew of this."

"We _offered_ a Starbase. We signed no agreements." The emotional emphasis was probably for the benefit of the humans in the room.

"Oh, Jesus Christ." Barnett's head was in his hands. "Why do you guys need your own guardian? We sent three starships, that's already one more than necessary."

"If a conflict were to begin, all three would enter it. We requested a ship independent of the conflict itself. We were refused. The Klingon Empire accepted."

"But –!" Kirk was stopped by a gentle tap on his arm. Spock, of all people.

"Captain, I believe I can be of some use in this situation."

Kirk looked over to the viewscreen, then back to Spock, "If you think you can help, then go ahead."

The commander stepped forward, and Nevak's words suddenly seemed supremely, insufferably arrogant, "I do not expect those capable of low emotional control to be able to understand the council's inherently logical actions –"

Spock interrupted, "You have proven that you have little additional information to offer. You have not answered the commandant's previous query. You made an illegal bargain with a foreign government, meaning that you are either ignorant of the laws agreed upon in the Federation Constitution or that you simply do not care what those laws say."

The hybrid's voice lowered, "Yet you feel that you are superior to all those present? It is most unfortunate that my Captain must persist in conversing with you."

Kirk was stunned. Spock had never sounded so – disgusted before. Sounded so… _emotional_ before.

Nevak apparently thought the same thing. "Your outburst is fueled by illogical impulses that you are clearly unable to control. I see no point in –,"

"All I have done is to point out the fact that you have reveled no further information regarding the issue at hand since the beginning of this conversation 2.462 minutes ago. Why do you persist in speaking?"

Nevak somehow managed to sneer without moving any of the muscles of his face. "I persist because –,"

"Do you have any additional _useful_ information regarding the issue of the High Council's illegal deal with the Klingon Empire?" This was spoken with clear exasperation.

"I know of much –,"

"You know of more details concerning –,"

"Concerning the Klingon Empire's bargain, yes," now they were both irritated.

"Then, as you have not communicated these details, in response to direct questioning, I may correctly assume that you are withholding information from senior Federation officials." Spock was clearly, subtly smug.

Nevak froze. He was stuck, and he knew it. If he said that he know nothing, he would be charged with lying to a senior Federation official. If he said be knew anything, he would be convicted of withholding valuable intelligence. "I…"

The Commander's next comment was delivered in his normal tone of voice, which was jarring to hear right after all of his previous comments. "As a Commander of Starfleet, I hereby accuse Nevak, son of Kawan, son of Nishtal, of treason in the third degree."

Barnett, who'd been silent for the duration of the argument, suddenly spoke up. "I second the accusation."

Nevak seemed to have turned to stone. "I… see. I will… inform the rest of the High Council of your decision." He nodded unsteadily to the captain and commandant, "… Good day."

His use of the lower class, human farewell did not go unnoticed by the commander. "Long life to you, Nevak."

Nevak cut the connection without deigning to respond. The Klingon captain – Tahn? – hummed softly.

"The traditional salutation is 'Peace and long life', correct?"

Spock turned to Kirk for permission to respond, which was given immediately. "That is the most common response, yes."

Captain Tahn grinned toothily, turning to Kirk, "I never thought I'd see a Vulcan spitfire!"

Kirk was fighting a proud grin, "We're rather fond of him."

Barnett responded before Tahn Could, "Yes, and Starfleet is lucky to have him. Now what are we to do about the Base?"

Tahn seemed insulted by the question, "Well, I think it's very simple –,"

"Yes, I had a feeling that you did," Barnett interrupted. "Kirk, can you talk to your mother about the situation?"

Kirk nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Good, and assign a liaison to deal with the Vulcans while you're at it." He nodded to Spock. "You have my official suggestion."

Kirk smiled, "Yes, sir. I'll get right on it."

"Excellent, Report back tomorrow. Barnett out." The connection was cut.

Tahn raised an eyebrow, "Can I be assured that the _Victory_ will not be attacked? A Federation member planet did request my presence."

"You won't be targeted as long as you're in orbit around the colony. I can't promise you anything else."

Tahn nodded. "That is acceptable. Cut connection."

"Kirk out." The screen cleared to show the alien cruiser slowly descending closer to the small red planetoid.

The bridge was silent. Spock sat back down at his station and began to scan the Klingon ship's engine output. Kirk sat quietly for a while, sending updates to the other Starfleet captains to make sure he didn't freak when they saw a Klingon vessel orbiting the colony of an endangered species.

After a while, that was finished, and if there was anything Kirk hated to be, it was bored. So he wandered over to the Science station to bug Spock, as was his custom in these sorts of situations.

The commander seemed to steel himself for the captain's approach, a fact Jim decided to ignore. "Can I be of some assistance, Captain?"

Jim leeaanned over Spock's shoulder, "I was wonnddering…" he drawled, "what you were thinking when you were destroying Nevak earlier."

"'Destroying' is an inappropriate term."

"You're dodging the question."

Spock turned his head to answer and nearly broke his own nose. "I was wondering whether my imitation of your persuasion methods were accurate."

"My –!" Jim did a double take, "My persuasion methods?"

"Whom did you believe me to be mimicking?"

The blond blinked. "I was thinking Bones, actually."

"No. I was imitating you."

"Oh. Alright then," Jim made to leave the bridge. "Oh, almost forgot." The commander swiveled cautiously.

"Yes Captain?"

"Will you be liaison to the High Council?"

Spock nodded. "Yes sir."

"Won't be too awkward for you, will it?"

"Awkward, but easily overcome."

"Ah." Kirk looked slightly guilty. "Sorry." The bridge doors opened, and he was nearly blinded by Yeoman Rand's hairdo.

"Oh my gosh, Captain! I'm sorry, I didn't –!"

"It's alright, Yeoman. I'm not hurt."

Physically restraining himself from making any untoward comments about the height Rand's hair had grown to, Kirk argued with himself as to what would constitute 'improper comments about personal appearances or behaviors' – one of those strictly forbidden and hopelessly vague terms hidden within his Captain's Guide – all the way down to his quarters.

Finally he found himself sitting in front of a comm unit, trying to explain the situation at hand to the woman who, in her words, 'labored for eighteen grueling hours' to bring him into the world.

When he was a kid he'd always wondered if those much referenced hours she was talking about were the ones of her actually going into labor or the sex that was required beforehand to procure the child necessary for that situation to exist.

Aforementioned woman was not buying his story.

.bdobd.


	8. Weytahn

A/N:

If two people have a fight over an object, one calling the thing A, the other calling it B, and one wins, you can assume hard feelings if both parties continue to call the thing whatever they did before the fight.

All of the stuff about Weytahn is accurate. You can check the wonderful Memory Alpha (google it!), a great Star Trek wiki, for more details.

Memory Alpha references Kirk as the Treasurer of the Academy Linguistics Club.

Uhura knew the Cardassian Captain's coordinates from the position of the communication frequency: the highest quality channel connections are going to be centered about where the captain's normal position is.

It's a central principle of quantum physics that nothing can outrun light. Warp speed is most likely explained by use of superstrings, alternate dimensions, and parallel universes: nothing can go faster than light.

Bolian: Federation species known for patience and amiability, they're often recruited for odd jobs aboard ships, things like hair cutting. Cipher: The thing you use to encrypt information.

.bdobd.

"The Vulcans promised _what_?"

Jim sighed, "They said that if the Klingons sent a guardian ship they'd get joint custody of any Base they chose. They chose Base XI." He was fighting the déjà vu impression of being a kid again and ratting on a disobedient older brother.

"How could they be so stupid –!"

"I don't know. But Barnett asked me to tell you why there are going to be Klingons wandering around the Base tomorrow."

"Fuckit." Winona slumped backwards, "How long's this deal going to last?"

"No clue."

"_Damn_ it!" She sighed and ran a hand through her long hair. "Can you send me a security team? I want to know that at least some of the guys with guns are on my side."

"Of course. How many do you want?"

" Ten? Fifteen, maybe? Enough so that the merchants don't freak."

"Right. I'll get'em over by tomorrow. Hey." Jim paused in the process of comming the security officer, "can I give shore leave to my crew on the Base? They deserve a break."

"That's fine by me."

"Good. Let me call Giotto, you'll see the guys later."

"Alright."

"Hey, I almost forget. Is Tishri there?"

"No. She's back on Andoria getting Arya elected."

Jim winced. "Really?"

"Yep."

"Christ."

"Yeah, I know. I've got a lot of paperwork to do –,"

"Go right ahead. Kirk out."

"Kirk out."

.bdobd.

The arrival of the team of fifteen security officers annoyed the Klingons, but it was the appearance of the four hundred Enterprise crewmembers that really pissed them off.

According to Tahn.

"You said nothing of shore leave being granted to your crew!" Tahn, Kirk, and Spock were in Winona's office.

"Look," Mrs. Kirk started, "joint use means just that, _joint_ use. Two parties using the _same area_. Captain Kirk didn't need to tell you that he was granting his crew leave."

"It's common courtesy!"

"As I recall," Spock replied, "you did not mention your crew's leave, either."

Tahn narrowed his eyes. "I like you better yelling at the Vulcan."

"Hey!" Winona broke in before Kirk could respond, "That's out of line. Both of you, lay off it, or I'll –!"

No one would ever know what Mrs. Kirk would do if Tahn didn't stop, because a sudden blast rocked the Starbase. The two captains sprinted for the door, both of them yelling into the communicators. Winona ran to her desk, and soon her voice could be heard on the Base-wide PA system:

"Red alert, red alert, we're under attack!"

.bdobd.

The biggest battle that was fought turned out not to be Klingons and Federation vs. Cardassians – who'd fired out of what appeared to be boredom – but Klingons saying that they'd won because they'd fired the last, disabling shot, and the Federation saying that they hadn't fired only because of their superior morals.

The Federation was, of course, talking out of its ass, but when it came to patriotism, small details such as facts were rarely permitted to clutter up the 'big picture'.

This knowledge was the apparent reason that the Klingons had gone from being on the Base to being dicks on the Base.

Security Officer Giotto had reported increasing amounts of hostility towards the Federation crew, which was pretty damn stupid as the Federation outnumbered them three to one, and they were docked in a Base whose upkeep was funded by the Federation government.

Kirk really didn't care either way. No attacks, no open hostility, some bad behavior, whatever. It wasn't not like he'd expected to hear good things about the shared quarters: the Klingons were known to be testy when in confined areas. The merchants could deal.

This did not excuse Tahn's bloodthirsty reaction to the Romulan worship that appeared a week after the battle with the Cardassians.

.bdobd.

"I say we kill them. Now." Tahn, Kirk, and Spock were standing in Winona's office again. Kirk was reaching the end of his rope.

"Yeah, we all know what you think, I'm trying to figure out if that's a good idea."

Tahn snorted, "What's to discuss? The Romulans should not be here, they know this, and we are stronger. They will be killed."

Spock responded before Kirk could, "As I recall, you were not supposed to be present either." The commander had been testy ever since the Romulan warbird had appeared.

"You invited me."

"The Vulcan High Council extended the invitation. We all are not the same."

Winona, who'd been watching the three men argue from behind her desk, asked, "Can we be certain the High Council didn't ask for Romulan aid? They were pretty pissed when you Klingons jumped to fight the Cardassians, instead of hanging back and guarding the colony like promised."

Spock pivoted to face her, "You can be assured that the High council had nothing to do with the Romulan presence. They are genuinely disturbed by their appearance."

"So what are we going to do?" Kirk repeated. "The Romulans are on the Cardassian side of the border, we can't attack because of threat of invasion. And they're not doing anything over there, anyway. Just sitting there."

The Commander inclined his head. "Then the most logical course would be to wait for movement."

Tahn snorted. "The Klingons will not wait idly for action to appear. My ship will move to attack. The Federation may truthfully say they had no part in our decision." He nodded insolently to Mrs. Kirk, "Madame." Winona watched him march out of the room with resignation.

"Is there anything you can do to stop him?"

Kirk shook his head. "He's of another government, we can't force our laws on him."

The three watched quietly as the Klingon cruiser detached from the Base docks and flew over to face the Romulan warbird. The bright flashes of phasers and photon torpedoes soon illuminated the room with jarringly jaunty colors.

Suddenly, the entire Starbase rocked violently. The lights flickered, dimmed, and then re-lit themselves.

"Sulu, what the hell was that?" Kirk shouted at his comm.

The acting captain sounded frazzled, "No idea sir, but it wasn't Romulan or Klingon. I don't think it was ours either, I – oh shit!"

Another blast made the lights fail completely. An anxious secretary poked her head into the office, "What was that?"

Kirk was already half out the door, Spock at his heels, yelling for Sulu to answer, "Sulu! Sulu, damnit, my ship! My ship! What's happening to her?"

Sulu finally responded. "She's all right sir, their aim is bad."

Spock elbowed a path into a lift, as Kirk was too busy shouting for information, "Whose aim?"

"Cardassians, sir, they came up from behind when the Klingons were attacking the warbird…"

"Fuck." Kirk was jogging down to the entrance hatch, "I'll be there in a second, don't disconnect the ship."

"Yessir." Sulu cut the connection as Spock was tying in the entrance code to the door, while Kirk was trying to reassure the few Starbase personnel who'd thought to follow them for answers.

"People, we're under attack from the Cardassains; we're going out to stop them now –,"

"Sir, the hatch is unlocked."

"–Good, Spock.– and remember, the most important thing is DON'T PANIC."

The two left the Base to a crowd of questions. The thick metal door swung shut automatically just as the lift doors were hissing open to transport tem to the bridge.

"Sulu, out of my chair." The helmsman looked distinctly relieved as he sprang up from the Captain's seat.

"Uhura, send disconnect warning." The lieutenant nodded and a prerecorded message sounded over the loudspeakers, one that was all but drowned out on the bridge by Kirk's yelling of orders, "Sulu, disconnect now, remember the parking break." The helmsman flinched at the reminder of his now-famous mistake on the Enterprise's first voyage.

"Yessir." There was a dull _ka-chunk_ sound as a giant set of magnetic metal arms released the Enterprise, just in time for her to miss the photon torpedoes that slammed into the side of the Base, right where her nacelles were.

"Sulu, plot intercept course for the Cardassian ship, Chekov, ready torpedo cannons 1,3, and 4."

Two unanimous "Yessir"s, and the Enterprise turned smoothly to face the much smaller enemy craft.

"Uhura, open a channel."

"Yessir." Part of the main veiwscreen changed to show a Cardassian captain, a different one than the one who'd picked up Kirk and Spock. No matter.

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS _Enterprise_; you have attacked a valuable Starbase in a hostile manner. If you surrender now negotiations can be scheduled lessening your penal sentence."

In response, the alien craft cut the connection and fired again at the Enterprise. This time, they hit.

"Shields at 97%, sir," Spock reported as the ship shook.

"Chekov, fire at will."

"Yes, Keptan." The larger, stronger Federation ship let loose with a barrage of phasers and torpedoes that almost instantly destroyed most of the foreign ship.

"Chekov, stop. Uhura, reopen that channel." Both officers moved to comply, and the screen again showed the alien captain, who was now looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"I am Captain Kirk of the _Enterprise_. Surrender and live, or continue fighting and die. Your choice." Again, not quite the regulation message. Oh well.

The Cardassian glanced to her left, obviously checking for a second opinion. Then she nodded, "We surrender," and cut the connection.

Kirk sent a call down to Engineering from his chair, "Scotty, we doing alright?"

"Weh're fine, Keptan. If onleh' all battles could be that easeh'!"

"Good. I want you to beam the Captain aboard as a prisoner of war. Uhura, send down the Captain's coordinates."

"Sure thing, Keptan."

"Yes, sir."

.bdobd.

While the other captain was definitely surprised to be transported without warning, she got over it quickly, and didn't make much fuss while being 'escorted' down to an interrogation room by security.

She made up for her cooperation by then being utterly unresponsive to Uhura's questioning. Kirk decided to take over after an hour of silence: he'd learned a respectable amount of Cardassian while being Treasurer of the Academy's Linguistics Club.

The captain – the other one – nodded as Kirk sat down. "Captain Kirk. It is good to meet with you in person."

The blonde's eyes flew up. "So you do speak Standard."

She nodded again. "Yes."

"Then why weren't you talking to my Communications officer?"

"She was of an inferior rank. I only answer to those superior to me."

Kirk blinked. "I'm superior to you? We're both Captains, right?"

"The last captain of my vessel was killed for treason. I was apprenticed to another, and was awarded this ship because of my Teacher's references when she died. I am therefore a junior Captain, and subordinate to you."

"Treason?"

"She had not been ordered to rescue you and your first officer from the Zedakitians."

"But she got the two best-known lower officers of Starfleet to lobby on your government's behalf."

"Those plans failed."

"That wasn't her fault, though."

"The Empire ruled that there was no distinction."

Kirk, who'd been leaning on his elbows, relaxed backwards into his chair, "Where did the Empire begin working with the Romulans?"

"Not long ago. When the Klingons appeared in your borders, we assumed that your governments had joined forces in an attempt to invade. The Empire asked the Romulans to assist in our defense."

That had been… strangely simple. Kirk had expected a long stall. "You said 'assumed'. Have you any evidence to the contrary?"

"The Klingon captain made quite clear that his Empire was working independent of yours."

_'That fucking idiot Tahn…'_ "The Federation is not an Empire."

The Cardassian shrugged. "As you wish." Kirk frowned, then turned to a question that'd been bugging him for a while.

"What's your government's opinion on Lorentian planets joining the Federation?"

"The are small planets of no use to us. They constantly are requesting supplies that we cannot provide. If the Federation would like them, you may have them."

"Very well." Kirk stood. "You have been charged with attacking Federation property and people, and crossing agreed upon borders. Your trail will either be held by the our government or yours, depending on the result of impending negotiations." He bowed slightly. "I sincerely wish you all of the best."

The alien nodded politely. "And to you, Captain Kirk."

The security team outside the door snapped to attention as Kirk left the room. "I want her moved to a political prisoners cell, not the general brig. Keep her separated from her crew. Comm Lieutenant Uhura if she makes a noise."

The two officers fired off a sharp salute. "Yes, Captain."

Spock was also waiting in the hall. Kirk addressed him practically over his shoulder as he plowed down the hall. "Come with me, I need to tell the Admiralty and I only want to say this once."

"Yes, Captain." The Commander obediently followed Kirk into the lift where the Captain snapped open his comm, "Bones, conference room 1." He closed and re-opened the device, "Giotto, conference room 1." Shut-open, "Scotty, conference room 1."

The life doors parted to a row of doors identical except for the numbered engraved on a small sign beside each one. Kirk and Spock entered the first and the blond immediately set about opening a channel to the Admiralty. Spock seemed hesitant to interrupt Kirk's furious jabbing of the controls.

"Captain, you seem… distressed. Is it a matter of security?"

Jim stopped fiddling with the comm unit's controls and slumped into his chair, waiting for the frequency to be established. "That captain was ordered to fight a losing battle. I she goes back to her Empire, she'll be convicted of treason and killed. If she gets a trial here she'll be shipped off to a penal colony to die." He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "It's a no-win scenario, and I _hate_ those."

The Vulcan nodded slowly. "I understand. I am… sympathetic to your position."

Bones and Scotty stomped and mosied in, respectively. The CMO jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "Giotto's comin': he's overseeing the Cardassian's transport."

An unusually large conference screen, the size of three standard ones squished together end-to-end, changed to show a Bolian Starfleet operator. "You have just opened a Priority One frequency to Starfleet's highest body, the Admiralty. Please state your name and need."

Ship-to-Admiral transmissions were notoriously stiff.

"James T. Kirk, Captain of NCC-1701. Conference request to persons Barnett, Commandant, Pike, Admiral, and Nogura, Admiral. Stated subject is the Cardassian attack, motives, and political position."

Giotto dashed into the room, started to explain, then saw the open channel and mouthed 'Sorry'.

"Processing." The Bolian looked down to a control pad and began typing furiously. "Response, Nogura, query: Who is to be the full audience?"

"Answer: Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, Chief Medical Officer McCoy, Chief Engineering Officer Scotty, and Chief Security Officer Giotto. Also: Admirals Pike and Barnett."

"Accepted." More furious typing. Bones and Scotty were failing to conceal their irritation; "Request: Accepted, Barnett, Pike, and Nogura, ranks filed. Open channel now?"

"Affirmative." The screen sifted from the operator to a Starfleet logo, which pulsed softly. Then it cleared again to a row of worried Admirals. Barnett got speaking rights, as he was of the highest rank.

"Have you informed your crew of anything you are about to inform us of?"

"No, sir."

Barnett pressed a few keys of his screen controls, "Request move to lower formality of the preceding."

Pike and Nogura could be seen lunging for the 'Affirmative' keys, "Agreed," they stated unanimously. Bones, Scotty, and Giotto happily relaxed their parade rest. Spock, of course, stayed as he was.

The Commandant leaned forward, "What the HELL is going on? Why are there Romulans sputtering around? Who're the High Council blaming?"

Kirk sighed and braced himself for a very long conversation. "I just finished questioning the Cardassian captain. She said the Cardassians got worried that we were teaming up with the Klingons, and they asked the Romulans for help."

Nogura started in, "Did they ask the Klingons about this first?"

Spock answered quickly, "Very improbable, diplomatic relations between the two Empires are very poor."

"Improbable? Kirk, did you ask?"

The captain shook his head, "No, I figured it was a given. No one talks to anyone any more."

The Admirals all nodded knowingly. "Do the Cardassians know that we were not working with the Klingons?" Pike asked.

Kirk grimaced, "Tahn told the Romulans, the Romulans told the Cardassians."

Giotto frowned, "Wait, Tahn told the Romulan Empire?"

"No, no, he told the ship. The Cardassian's ship."

Scotty frowned. "No theh dihn't."

Kirk swiveled, "What?"

"Cardassians dahn't have communication capabilities wih Romulan models. Wrong frequency."

Barnett addressed Kirk, "What did the Cardassian say exactly?"

"That the 'Klingon captain made quite clear' that we weren't working together."

"Could the ships be modified to accept Romulan frequencies?" Barnett asked Scotty.

"Ah… dahn't think so. Ah'll have to check again, but ah'm pretty sure the circuits are all wrong."

Spock nodded "I agree with Engineer Scott's assessment. Modifications of that breadth would have appeared on our preliminary scans."

"Could we get Uhura in here to confirm that?" Kirk asked.

Barnett shook his head. "This is confidential, we can't have more people than absolutely necessary in the room." Bones raised an eyebrow, and Barnett threw him a wry look. "You're Chief Medical, you're necessary."

Nogura was frowning. "So how'd the ship know what – Tahn, was that his name? – said?"

"Could it have been the Romulan ship that was modified?" Pike asked Scotty.

"Aye. Easily."

Spock looked almost-concerned, "For those alterations to have been completed by today, they would have had to begin two days before the Klingon ship, which was the stated cause for concern."

"Could they've sent the Klingons heading out way and guessed?" Giotto wondered.

Bones shook his head, "Not if they were at warp, you can't tell what direction something's heading in when it's in warp. And if the Klingons came in the hurry they said they did…"

"Then how did they know that the Klingons were coming?"

The room was silent for a minute. Then Kirk paled. "Spock, could the Cardassians have intercepted the High Council's transmission to the Klingons?"

The Commander nodded sharply. "Yes. The Council's messages are encrypted, but their ciphers are not unbreakable."

"Wait." Kirk narrowed his eyes. Those ciphers… We use the same kind on Priority Two messages."

"Yes. A simplified form of them."

"That message from Tishri to me, it was broken before the High Council's message was. Could it have been a kind of test?"

"As a training exercise, it would be of much use, yes."

Pike had gone green, "Wait. The Cardassians have been spying on the High Council? We've been planning supply routs, those transport shuttles have crappy defense systems."

Kirk was grim. "The _Enterprise_ can escort the supply vessels; what else could the Empire have heard?"

Spock was the one to answer. "All major details of the Klingon contract could have been intercepted, along with a detailed explanation of the defense systems of the colony."

Nogura looked horrified. "Why was the High Council sending defense schematics though subspace?"

"What else would you send transmissions through? Vacuum tubes?" Bones snapped.

"The Council was attempting to justify their interactions with the Klingons. The argument was made that the strength of the defensive forces was negligible enough to excuse the drafting of an illegal contract."

Kirk groaned, "Requiring the Council to send drafts of all of the systems to the Federation Council for oversight…"

Giotto sounded even worse than Nogura looked, "If the colony's attacked now –,"

"It won't be." Kirk was adamant. "We won't let them."

Spock seemed even stiffer than usual, a sure sign that he was upset. "I would be wise to evacuate the colonists, in the event of an attack."

"Where do we evacuate tem to?" Pike asked, "I'm not approving sending the last of an endangered species to a Starbase that's already been targeted."

The room was quiet again as everyone wondered where to stick eight-five hundred Vulcans. It stayed quiet for a while. Spock spoke first.

"The _Enterprise_ could transport the colonists, but not house them for an extended period of time."

Bones quickly moved to disagree, "There is no way my Sickbay can handle eighty-five hundred Vulcans. We go into a tizzy over just this one, when he comes in sick." The doctor jerked a thumb over to Spock.

Unfortunately, McCoy was right. Vulcan biology was so unusual, and the Vulcans so tight lipped about themselves, that treating them was almost ludicrously difficult.

Kirk was tapping his fingers on the conference table contemplatively. "You'll only have to treat them if they get sick. All of them won't fall ill at once."

"Captain, you know how epidemics start. Lots of people in close quarters. I can't say with any certainty that if we take on that may people at once, they'll all live. An epidemic is ten percent of the population: if ninety of those people get sick, that's an epidemic of an _entire species_."

Spock's eyebrows were drawn. "The loss of a hundred is unfortunate, but –,"

"That's more than one percent; that's dangerous!"

Spock interrupted, "The loss of a hundred is better than the loss of all _but _one hundred, which are as many as could be expected to survive an attack by any surrounding Empire."

Bones ground his teeth. "Then I can't advocate for either option. It'd be best to get a ship that's designed for transporting that many people to come and _transport that many people._ This ship is not designed for this!"

Scotty, who'd been silent throughout the exchange, piped up in McCoy's advocacy. "Ah've gotta agree wih the Doctor on this one. We canna go full speed wih ahll of that extra weight. We'll be lucky to hit Warp 4 wih'out serious issues wih the engines."

Barnett shook his head. "Then we've just got to get them to somewhere close by, those people need to be moved _now_."

"But where can we put them? There's nothing large in your immediate area," Nogura said.

"What about the Zebulon colony?" Giotto said, "It's a land base, they should have rooms for less than ten thousand."

Barnett looked as though he was going to agree when Bones interrupted. "No way. I've been in those kinds of colonies; their medical teams are the worst of the Federation. That's the reason they're on a border land base, instead of around a lot of people."

Kirk nodded, "I've gotta agree, some of these bases that are farther out are scary."

There was another lull. Scotty spoke hesitantly. "Wha' abou' Andoria? They're close."

Giotto didn't seem enthusiastic. "Well. I guess they're close. And they're a member planet, they'll have good hospitals…"

The security chief's lackluster endorsement was for good reason: some of Andoria's anti-Vulcan groups put some of Earth's anti-government organizations to shame.

McCoy frowned. "Vulcan-Andorian relations are terrible. I can't stand politics, and _I _know that. The Vulcans might not hold grudges, but the Andorians sure as hell do. From what I've seen, they're _still _sore about that whole Weytahn thing."

Kirk's eyes widened, "I knew they hated them, but _Weytahn?_ That was what, two hundred years ago?"

Spock had pursed his lips slightly. "The final treaty was signed in 2097."

"See? Nearly two centuries –,"

"One hundred and sixty-two years, to be exact." Spock was staring straight ahead, as though that white wall opposite him held the secret to outrunning light.

Kirk had swiveled to face the Vulcan. "Mr. Spock, I know that the Weytahn treaties were about a contested planetoid. But who got the thing?"

Spock looked almost-quizzically down at the Captain. "Sir?"

"Who got Wehtahn?"

"The Andorians were given Pann Mokar in the end."

Pike cocked his head to one side. "Pann Mokar?"

The Vulcan shifted slightly. "The Vulcan name for the planetoid."

Bones blinked. "Wait. The Vulcans…," he squinted at Spock, "You learned that in public school, right?"

Spock nodded. "Yes."

"So the Vulcans… taught Vulcan children… that the _appropriate name_ of a planetoid that was settled to be _Andorian_ in _2097 _is actually the _Vulcan_ name. For that same planetoid."

"Yes."

"The Vulcans said that that Andorian planetoid was really Vulcan all along."

The hybrid shifted again. "That is… the assumed meaning behind the keeping of the planetoid's Vulcan name, yes."

Every human in the room was unified for one, brief moment. "_Fuck_."

.bdobd.


	9. Comparisons

A/N: Shout out to Product of a Sick Society and to bookdragon01.

Tishri's dead useful to Kirk, but Spock hates her. She's a bit too slimy for his taste. Also, he can't meditate while he's in negotiations or on the ship with all of the colonists – they're too stressed.

Sarek was originally only the Earth ambassador, but he's doing double-duty now. There are so few Vulcans left that the only way to have full negotiation teams for all of the Federation members would be to have some people do three or four jobs at once.

Terra Prime was an isolationist Earth group that formed right after the first contact with Vulcans that thought that the best way to deal with the discovery of alien races was to cut off all contact with them. Crazy, crazy fuckers.

.bdobd.

Jim found himself dancing around the topic of Weytahn – _'Pan Mokar, Pan Mokar to Vulcans!' _– for the next three days, even as plans for the Great Vulcan Migration steamed on.

That title had both been devised and capitalized by the Federation's Public Relations Team, who were in the arduous process of trying to convince the population of Andoria that the arrival of the all of the Vulcans was actually a _really neat idea_. The plan was pretty much doomed to fail, as there were several major factions of said population that had publicly stated their loathing of the Vulcans numerous times, but supposedly it was worth a shot.

The team's work was not made any easier by the fact that the Vulcans didn't seem too keen on the plan, either, if Spock's firm un-expression after every negotiations meeting was anything to go by. The Andorians were the ones with a rap sheet stuffed with vengeful behavior, but it was the Vulcans who still remembered the name of an asteroid _one hundred and sixty-two years_ after they'd lost their colonization rights to the thing.

Rumor had it that there was a pool of seventy credits going for the first person to find proof that the Vulcans had picked up the behavior from the Andorians.

Pool or not, the Vulcans were beaming up tomorrow, and something had to be done. So here Jim was, outside his first officer's quarters, chessboard in hand, wondering how to ask a Vulcan how he felt about a purely emotional issue then the logical and proper answer was clearly in sight.

Sighing, he pressed the 'Query: Open' command, and waited.

Spock opened the door a few moments later, looking like he should be martyred for the extreme expenditure of effort on his part. Kinda. Those nostrils looked distinctly almost-martyred. "Can I help you Captain?"

Jim looked him up and down. "You look like shit. Can I come in?"

Well, fuck, _that _was subtle.

Spock seemed to think the same. One eyebrow drew slooowly up, and the blonde rushed to clarify, "The Vulcans are coming tomorrow and I need some advice on how to deal with them." He waved the game board slightly and smiled, "And I want to play a _real _match. I'm not going easy on you this time."

The eyebrow, which had settled politely back into its normal position, leapt again. "The probability of my defeat is approximately –,"

Jim grinned. "Something around nil, I know." Spock stood aside and nodded for him to enter. Everything was as it usually was, hot and quiet, except for a small mat surrounded by doused candles of varying heights.

"What're these?"

Spock turned from the temperature control panel next to the door as the heat of the room dissipated. "It is a meditation nat. I was attempting to calm my mind when you arrived."

_'Whoops.'_ "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Spock motioned for Jim to sit on the foot of the bed. "It is of little consequence, as my attempts were proving largely unsuccessful. Many of the colonists are also trying to calm their minds, an attempt many are apparently failing."

Jim looked up from the neat rows of pawns, "How do you know that?"

The commander at neatly down on the bed and began placing the figurines carefully onto the board. "I have been regularly conversing with my elder self after the diplomatic sessions. He is the head of an assistance group for those who have difficulties finding focus. The group's size has been growing."

It must've taken a lot of _something_ to admit that. Jim peered down at the loaded board. "Is that why you were so annoyed after today's session?" He moved a pawn to divide Spock's attention.

"Annoyance is a human emotion." The commander was now staring down at the little white pawn as if it was the source of his currently denied distress.

"Fine then. You were unsettled, then. Or very, very concerned. Whatever you were, something's up. What happened?"

Spock settled his hands in his lap, a signal that he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. "The council is… concerned… about the idea of Andorian residency."

Jim frowned. "Concerned about what?"

"They refuse to say."

The blonde turned indignant. "Why?"

"I believe they assume that I am untrustworthy, due to what I assume is my human heritage."

"_What?_" Kirk's jaw clenched, "What'd your father have to say?"

Spock shook his head. Barely, but he did it. "He was not present. He has not been for some time. I believe him to be ill."

"Why didn't you tell me! For god's sake, how long's he been sick?"

"He has been absent from meeting for fifteen days now. He has not answered my communication attempts for the same amount of time.

_'Fuck!' _"Fuck. Do you have any proof that he's actually on the colony? Has anyone actually seen him?"

"Councilman Prime reported that he was still on planet two days ago. I have no reason to doubt him."

Jim blinked. "Wait. Your dad would see the other you, but not his you?"

Spock's gaze flickered to the left. "I… doubt the meeting was established with my father's prior knowledge."

It was pretty funny to think of Spock Prime breaking into Sarek's house. Kind of awesome, too. Jim grinned. "I get it. So, has the council talked to the Andorians at all?"

"I believe the source of their distress is a result of Andorian communications."

That didn't sound good at all. "What Andorian communications? What'd they say?"

"I have not seen the video myself, but apparently there is footage the Andorian president Thkahn that shows him insulting Vulcan. When the High Council contacted him to verify the validity of the rumored statements, the President… failed in his reassurances. Today a motion was considered to halt the evacuation process on the basis of several threatening remarks the president is said to have made."

"Damnation." Jim glanced off to the left, trying to see what Spock found so interesting. He didn't find anything, and looked back to stare at the lonely pawn. "Surely there's someone whose job is to confront these kinds of idiots."

"Yes. My father's job."

Jim thought various uncharitable things about various people and deities before turning his attention back to the innocent Vulcan who'd had the misfortune to become entrenched in this mess. "Is there… erm…" Jim's voice petered off. "Is there anyone else?"

"I would be the most likely candidate –,"

Jim did a mental face-palm.

"– barring myself, there is no one else. The Vulcans converse only with the Andorian government when they deem it absolutely necessary. Only one liaison is needed for such infrequent communication."

"Argh. Ermm…" Jim turned his head one way, then another, staring at the pawn from all sides. "Is there an Andorian ambassador?"

"Former Vice-President Thkahn was the liaison."

"Let's call him, then."

"… His current title is the President of Andoria."

"Oh come _on_." Jim grabbed the bridge of his nose between two fingers, "Is there _anyone _we can call?"

"I have not found a suitable candidate."

"_Hruph._" The blonde peered to the left again. Then his eyes brightened, and he stared purposefully at Spock's comm unit. "Can I use that?"

The Vulcan blinked. "Yes."

Jim sat at the unit and began typing in a connection number. Spock watched quizzically from the sidelined. "Jim, may I inquire as to who you are attempting to contact?"

"Tishri." Jim's fingers tapped impatiently on the desk. "She owes me for not reporting her and Arya to Starfleet. And whatever she went to Andoria for, she should be back by now."

Finally, a holoscreen opened to show the aged Andorian's face. She took a few moments to absorb the determined expression on Kirk's face, then sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to act as a liaison to Vulcan for Andoria. Everyone else is sick, dead, or part of the problem."

The woman didn't argue. "Alright. Where do you want me to be, when?"

"I need you to contact the High Council tomorrow and see what they want from Andoria. Then report back."

Tishri nodded quietly. "Alright. I'll do it."

Kirk nodded sharply in response. "Good. We'll talk tomorrow, then."

"Yes."

"Excellent. Kirk out."

"Tishri out." the connection cut, and the screen went dark. Jim waited before swiveling to face Spock, and then for the Vulcan to speak.

"I have never before seen you behave in that manner, Captain."

Jim didn't correct Spock's use of his title. A few moments ago, it had been a totally accurate label. "Tishri… Tishri's job it is to predict the actions of people with no morals. So she always seemed unsure about me."

Jim wove his fingers together and looked contemplatively at nothing. "I try to work only for the Enterprise. I wan not always succeed, but I try."

Spock's voice was as soft as Jim's had been. "You said that she was not a problem, because she was easy to predict."

"Right. Me, sometimes I'm selfless, and sometimes I screw up and do something stupid. But that's a lot harder to track than someone who's just given up and decided to be a douche all of the time, because there's no point."

He waved a hand over his shoulder in the direction on the comm unit. "By acting like that, I looked like a bastard, and bastards are easy to work with, 'cause they're so damn predictable. And Tishri's knows how to work with those people."

Spock cocked his head slightly to one side. "I disagree with one of your observations."

Jim tried looking up for the first time since he'd turned from the screen. "Which one?"

"I have never seen attempt to serve this ship and failed."

Jim blinked, stunned. "Oh." He tried not to blush, but it was a doomed enterprise. _'Enterprise. Ha.'_ "Humm. Well, thank you for –,"

The commander shook his head, "It is illogical to thank one for observing an easily recognizable pattern. You are the one who deserves recognition."

"For what?"

Spock didn't quite smile. But for one moment, it seemed very clear that he wanted to. "For being unpredictable."

.bdobd.

Spock had not foreseen the effect that his statement would have on the captain. Jim? The Terran had been quietly content for the better part of the proceeding day, until Lieutenant Uhura reported a call coming from Starbase XI for him. Then, he was immediately alert.

"Send it to conference room 1. Spock, with me; Sulu, the conn." Spock nodded and followed his captain into the turbolift. The man appeared concerned.

"Captain. Is something the matter?" The captain's eyes widened, and he looked vaguely panicked, as though his current unrest had been a great secret. He sounded nervous.

"I… um… not… I'm not quite sure what to expect from Tishri's report."

"The council will probably request an expression of good will from the President. And the former councilwoman will probably be irritated by the difficulties she will have encountered in gaining this information."

The captain – Jim? – laughed softly. "Yeah. Probably." The turbolift's doors opened onto a row of nearly-identical doors. Captain (?) entered the one marked by a number 1 and began to call up the transmission's frequency. He turned and saw Spock standing by the door. "Do you want to sit down? It's not like there aren't enough chairs."

It had been a subject of frequent amusement between the Captain and Security Officer Giotto, the number of chairs present in each conference room. Apparently, there were too many. According to the Captain, these rooms were most often used during emergencies, when no one had a surfeit of time to sit.

_'Illogical,'_ his mind hissed emotionally. "Thank you, I shall stand." _'Meditation is needed. Perhaps after we arrive at Andoria…'_

The captain seemed slightly… 'put out', that was the phrase? "Alright. Well, the frequency's been established, so –,"

A holoscreen flickered to life, and Spock automatically moved to stand by the captain's right shoulder, as he would on the bridge. _'Irrational.'_ The Andorian on screen appeared wary.

"Hello Captain."

The captain nodded solemnly. "Hello, Tishri. How'd it go?"

She shook her head and let out a low whistle. _'C minor.' _"You gave me a doozey of an assignment. These people don't talk for love or money. I finally had to tell them that if they didn't say what they wanted, I'd send the whole conversation over to Thkahn!"

She laughed at her own disquieting brand of cleverness, and Spock had to concentrate on keeping is contempt from showing. His captain compared himself to _this_?

"They knew you were kidding, right? Because if they didn't then you just reported that you blackmailed them." His captain was doing a truly commendable job of controlling his expression.

"They're smart, they knew. Don't worry! Anyway, they said they'd been offended by that press conference that Thkahn gave a few days ago – let's face it, who hasn't been insulted by the guy, at least once – and they want an apology, basically."

His captain seemed relieved. "That's it? Alright, I can manage that. Thank you Tishri."

The stateswoman nodded, pleased. "You're welcome. Tishri out."

"Kirk out." His captain relaxed backwards as the holoscreen darkened. He was smiling slightly, and was clearly pleased. Spock was still nauseated. His captain thought he acted like the _councilwoman?_

The blonde swiveled to face the Vulcan. "You were spot on with your predictions, as always, Mr. Spock." Then he stood and looked more closely at the hybrid's expression. "Are you alright? You don't look good."

The commander tried to regain some semblance of emotional control. Meditation was imperative. "You compare your behavior to hers?" He was still staring at the black screen.

His captain seemed surprised, then saddened, by Spock's sudden vehemence. "Spock, you know I would do anything for the _Enterprise_, right?" The Vulcan nodded slightly. He had met no one who was ignorant of this obvious fact.

"Alright. 'Anything' includes acting like…" His voice trailed, and he gestured at the screen. "Well, like that. I would do that for the _Enterprise_. So it's," Jim stuffed his hands into his pockets, "hard for me to judge her for being ruthless. We're not that different, really."

"No. You are different." Spock had the distinct impression that if Sarek could hear the emotion in his tone, that he'd be horrified. "You would act, and then regret and repent. She makes no plans to do either."

The Vulcan bowed in preparation to leave. "I apologize, Captain, but I do not agree with your conclusions." He then exited, leaving another stunned Kirk behind.

.bdobd.

"The leaders of the Nahka Comentha are not misguided in their opinions, but in their solutions to the problems we now face."

Jim was stunned. No _wonder_ the High Council had been pissed. The Nahka Comentha were infamous for its absolutely batshit-crazy members. It was Andoria's version of Terra Prime. And the president of the planetthought that its opinions weren't misguided?

"I sincerely apologize for the remarks I made earlier," the politician was saying. Most of the bridge crew had gathered in a rec room to watch Thkahn's speech. "They were made in haste, and misrepresent my views. If any offense was taken, I meant no harm or insult to the peoples of Andorian or to our esteemed neighbors. Thank you. I will take no questions."

Chekov looked as disgusted as the rest of the crew. "Zat's it? And no questions? Zat _bastard_."

Sulu shook his head. "To think that he's the same guy who championed tolerance and decency."

"Candidates rarely totally commit to their original mission statements when in office." Spock didn't seem very upset by the president's non-apology apology.

Jim, who'd been shocked into silence, leapt up and began pacing in front of the screen, where a female reporter was trying to break up a fight between two commentators. "There's no way the council will accept that. Damnit, they're beaming up in hours, and if we don't do something quick they won't agree to transport."

The commander was, as always, a voice of reason. "It would be illogical for the High Council to reject the president's plea for peaceful discourse. That was their stated goal for the two governments. The probability of their compliance is high."

The blonde stopped pacing and was rapidly tapping his chin with two fingers. "But is there any way to make sure? If they aren't coming, I need to know _now_."

Uhura had been quiet for a while. "We could look at their message frequency. If they're talking a lot, they'll probably be more logical and come. If they aren't communicating, they're more likely to nurse grudges and refuse."

Jim turned to Spock. "Is she right?"

"In these circumstances, such an assumption would not be inaccurate. Little discussion would signal an emotional detachment from the usual public discourse."

"Good." Jim nodded sharply, then pivoted back to the lieutenant. "Good on you for catching that, I wouldn't have thought of it."

Uhura smiled. "Thank you, sir."

"Can you start monitoring the Vulcan's communication frequencies?"

"Yes, sir."

"Get on that. If you see higher-than-average communication hits after two hours, comm Scotty to start prepping the transporter for beaming." Uhura saluted and left.

"Spock, I'm going to need you to start prepping those rooms. It won't be finished in time if that starts after a full two hours."

"Yes, Captain," the Vulcan acknowledged.

"Should I move the Enterprise in closer to the planet?" asked Sulu.

"Yeah, that'll give us better monitoring clarity." The helmsman stood at Kirk's answer, saluted, and left. Kirk and Chekov were the only ones left in the room.

"And me, ser?" the Russian asked.

"Erm…" Jim was at a loss. "There's nothing much to navigate around, or shoot at… Have you finished your training sims for the month?"

Chekov grinned. "No, ser. I'll do zose."

"Good on you." The Ensign left. Kirk's mind suddenly went totally blank. He could practically hear the wind whistling through his ears as all of the crew left. Then:

_'Oh, fuck, the bridge!'_ and the room was empty.

.bdobd.


	10. Nut Case

A/N:

What the Thakahla people say about the Vulcans being the most adaptable is patently false, it's humans that are the great adapters.

Last note: Andorians are known for having poor hearing.

.bdobd.

The Vulcans hadn't been psyched to learn that they'd been monitored for the past few hours. But they'd consented to boarding in the end, saying that they understood the need for it.

While Jim didn't even pretend to understand how Scotty managed to beam eight thousand and five hundred aliens aboard so quickly – there may've been the illegal splicing of wires involved – he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and concentrated instead on getting a stubborn Sarek to Sickbay.

The Vulcan said that he felt fine, and Jim believed him, but the guy looked _horrible_. Where a human would've been green, the ambassador was a pale orange, and with sunken eyes and cheeks on top of an already thin frame, he wound up appearing positively cadaverous.

"I can assure you, while I am not in an optimal state of health, my condition is not serious enough to validate an appointment with a doctor."

The captain was behind Sarek, pushing lightly between he Vulcan's shoulder blades as he guided him towards McCoy's domain. "I'm sorry sir, but you look too ill for me – _in good conscience_ – to allow you to skip a visit with a medical professional."

"As I have already stated, I am not seriously sickened –,"

The older man's protest was cut off my Medbay's opening doors The reception nurse looked up from her terminal, and her look of total horror seemed to be enough to convince the Vulcan that a checkup might not be such a bad idea after all. He didn't argue as his blood pressure and temperature were taken – except for asking Jim not to stand, "as close as you currently are" . When he and McCoy started speaking, though, he got even more argumentive than before.

"Captain, I refuse to submit to this man's unreasonable demands."

Jim, who'd been sitting outside of the curtained room cheerfully flirting with a nurse, resisted a sigh. "What is he demanding?"

Bones burst out of the room in a dramatic flutter of beige curtains, "I just want him to tell me where he got infected!"

The Vulcan whirled on the doctor, "As I have already informed you, such information is classified."

"By _WHO?_ I'm the _doctor!_"

"By the Vulcan High Council, they have ruled that that information would negatively impact –,"

"Look you." Bones waved a finger at Sarek's nose, and Jim stood to warn him off before he got a limb snapped, "I need to know where you got sick so the _whole goddamned ship_ doesn't get sick and I have an epidemic on my hands!"

Sarek stiffened. "I contracted the illness on the colony. I am not contagious. There is no danger of an epidemic or plague –,"

"The HELL there isn't! What if others are infected, but they aren't showing signs? I _need_ to know where that bug was hiding so I can warn –,"

_"There is no danger of the spread of infection."_

Jim'd been quiet through the fight, but if Sarek got any more irritated McCoy would be the one needing medical attention. "Bones. Do you know enough to diagnose him?"

The CMO shook his head, "I know what it is, its Kapmon. The best cure's bed rest and fluids, but I need to know where he _got _the damn thing so that I can warn the other colonists –,"

"Bones." Jim would whisper if he thought that it'd do anything. "He will not tell you. You need to treat him with what you've got."

The doctor glared at Sarek. "Fine," he growled, "Kapmon's my diagnosis. Other than that infection, you're perfectly healthy, far as I can tell."

The ambassador bowed slightly and turned to Jim. "Captain, if I may see my quarters?"

Jim nodded, "Oh course, sir. Nurse," he called to Chapel, "would you mind escorting Sarek to his room?"

Chapel nodded. "Yes Captain."

Jim turned back to Bones after Sarek had left trailing regally after Chapel. "Jim, I really need to know where he got that. There's _nothing _on how lethal that thing is to Vulcans; this could get really bad."

"I know." The blonde sighed. "I won't be able to get him to tell me, though. I'd send Spock after, but I doubt that that'd work."

McCoy blinked. "Why not?"

"If it's bad, Sarek won't tell Spock. And if everything's fine, then Spock'll either get an earful of anti-_Enterprise_, which he'll agonize over for a month; or he'll come up to me later, telling me how his father told him that you'd just attacked him with a hatchet, or something."

Bones groaned. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"Yeah, I know." Jim ran a hand through his hair and looked back at the exit. "But what the council says goes, and that's what he believes. We've just got to try and work with it until we land."

.bdobd.

Later that day, the Nahka Comentha put out a press release saying that if "Andorian soil was contaminated [by the Vulcan colonists], extermination would be necessary." Security Chief Giotto seemed to take it as a grim kind of challenge – keep the entirety of a species, along with any Enterprise crewmen who decided to escort them off, without upsetting the famously testy Andorian security forces, AND transport all of the Cardassian prisoners into Federation penal colonies.

They had about a half a week to plan, and the Security teams were made of awesome, so by the time the _Enterprise_ docked, the protection was so dense only five people were allowed to meet anyone leaving the ship: the President, his Press Secretary, his Secretary of State, one reporter, and a Tishri, who'd arrived the preceding day.

Tishri pulled Kirk aside immediately after the obligatory photo shoot, which Giotto, Kirk, Spock, and every other Enterprise crewperson had taken offense at, and which had gone on anyway because… well, no one really knew why. But it had happened, and now Jim was being dragged for reasons he couldn't quite grasp.

Tishri started talking as soon as she'd found a suitable corner to abscond to, which turned out to be a smallish alcove underneath one of the docking station's support beams. "I heard about the N.C.'s message," she whispered. "How'd the Vulcans take it?"

"As well as could've been expected," Kirk replied, "they said they wanted more guards, and to have their lodgings made private. Nothing we wouldn't have done anyway."

"Good. Listen," the Andorian leaned closer, "don't think those guys represent a huge chunk of the population. Even Andorians think they're crazy. They're the most fundamentalist group we have. The people you need to worry about are the Thakahla. That's Thkhan's party, they're traditionalist. Don't like change or Vulcans."

"So… I'm not the only one who thinks they're nuts?"

"Exactly. You know that the Councilmen used to say 'N.C' stood for?"

"What?"

"Nut Cases." Kirk laughed weakly.

"Hey, are you liaison?"

"Temporarily. They're kicking me out as soon as they can, though. I'm still not popular enough, yet." Tishri said this with a small smile that spoke volumes about how much this actually hurt her.

"Shit. I'm sorry." She shook her head, grinning.

"Don't be."

"No, really. Is there anything I can do?" Jim squirmed a bit. "I… this may sound a bit narcissistic, but I'm… not unliked right now. Do you want to borrow a bit of that? I don't really need all that love right now, it's not like I'm on member planets much."

Tishri blinked. "You're offering to…" Started to giggle, just a tad hysterically. "Oh, gods. Fuck, you really don't know, do you?"

Jim stiffened, embarrassed and defensive. "Know what?" He hated being out of the loop.

"Alright. Jim. I was beaten by a huge margin, right?"

"Well. Yeah, you… you kinda were. I think everyone knows that, at this point."

Tishri cast her eyes up. "Right. Fine. It wasn't because no one came to that damn convention."

"Excuse me?"

"There was an interview, all in Andorian," she was talking faster and softer now, like this was all a scandalous secret, "it only aired on Andoria. Remember, a lot of debates are only in Andorian? It played a week before the ballots were cast." She took a breath and looked away. "In it, I said that I thought that you were faking modesty to get attention."

A wan smile. "It _destroyed _me. I went down fifteen points in opinion polls in seven seconds of footage. I was flattened."

Jim gulped. He couldn't believe that Tishri hadn't tried to kill him before. "You lost because of me?" Fuck, maybe he should start running… _Seven seconds? _Why wasn't he dead?

The Andorian grinned. "Now _that _sounded narcissistic!" She shook her head, "No, I lost because I was an idiot. There's no one anyone loves more than you. And I said you were a fake."

She pinned the hapless human with a look. "Now. I may very well be right." Jim gulped, bit she smiled again, "But seeing as you're the only guy who can prove that either way, there's no reason to sweat it. May just as well hang on and hope that one day I can come back to Andoria without getting hate mail."

Jim's brain had slowed to a crawl. "So, you've been… repenting?"

Tishri looked shocked. "_Me? _Repent? The fuck? That's not my job. That's on _you_. I'm not supposed to be selfless. If I am, I'll be eaten alive. You're the role model. I'm the person who wades through piles of paper, trying to get the boring shit done."

Still crawling. "Ok. So… what does a 'me' _do_?"

The smile that Tishri threw his was anything but comforting. "Hells if I know! Not my job, remember? But remember that right now, you're your own support and opposition." Another grin. "Your own political party."

"Alright… Fine." He could _do this._ "So why didn't you try to influence me on the Base? If I'm my own party wouldn't it be good to –?"

"Get on board? You'd think so, wouldn't you?" A blue finger was waved in the general vicinity of Jim's nose. "But I'm not _that _inexperienced. One look at you, and I could tell that you were at _least _half as stubborn as I am. The harder I'd've pushed, the harder you'd've pulled."

She shuddered melodramatically. "And gods know, I'd learned my lesson about going up against the idea of you. The real thing could only be worse. So I did what I felt like and let you do the rest yourself."

Jim nodded dumbly. "Very… logical. Spock'd be pleased."

"Augh." Another shudder. "He's as bad as you are."

The blonde smiled. "Worse, once you figure out his sense of humor."

Tishri looked horrified. "He _jokes?_ Fuck, I'm doomed."

"Hey. He's my friend."

"Yeah. But he's not mine."

There was a lull as Jim tried to get 'Tishri loses election' and 'James Kirk' to line up in his head. He was interrupted suddenly when Tishri snapped her fingers.

"Almost forgot! There's a meeting tomorrow, with the Thakahla leaders, about a 'compromise agreement'," Tishri made air quotes, "on the Vulcan occupation."

"What's there to compromise about? They're here, they'll stay, then they're leaving."

"Damned if I know. They want a meeting, they want you there."

"Alone?"

"Nothing specific, but probably no Vulcans."

"_Fuck_ that, I love the buggers. I'm bringing as many as I can."

Tishri smiled again. It still wasn't comforting, but at least she was amused. "I'd hoped you'd say that. It's tomorrow at 1 o'clock."

Jim grinned. "Where're we meeting?"

"I'll be in hanger G at about 12:45. They're showing us to the final spot."

"Sounds good to me."

"See you then."

"Goodbye."

The two parted. Kirk left to find Giotto, that Cardassian prisoner's transport still needed oversight.

.bdobd.

Jim was desperately amused, and trying not to show it.

He'd just told Spock and Sarek – who still looked like a zombie – about the Thakahla meeting. More specifically, he'd just told them how he'd planned to go alone.

Spock was having none of it, as expected. Jim loved being right. "Captain, your attendance would be a very poor decisions. You are the captain of Starfleet's flagship and have an unfortunate propensity for unearthing the worst of any given situation."

Ouch.

Spock went on, "I insist on accompanying you. For protective purposes."

"I, also, will attend," Sarek broke in, "I am the senior Vulcan ambassador to Andoria, as it would be illogical to host a meeting on Vulcan-Andorian relations without a Vulcan representative."

"Excellent!" Jim beamed. The other two men looked at him in what they would later insist was _not_ total befuddlement. "I'll meet you at hanger G at 1215 hours. Tishri's coming too, she'll meet us there."

Both Vulcans blinked quietly. Jim took a moment to savor their confusion, then pivoted sharply and left to find his quarters.

.bdobd.

Spock and Sarek were waiting at 1210, as expected. Jim beamed as he walked towards them, "I knew you'd be here early. Is Tishri here yet, or are we too early?"

"She has not yet arrived," Sarek answered. "What is to be our final destination? You referred to this place as a gathering of the attendees of the meeting, not the meeting room itself."

"Ermm…" The human looked to the ceiling for answers, but the rock remained singularly unhelpful. "You know, that is an _excellent _question. I didn't think to check."

Jim _felt _Spock raise an eyebrow. "You agreed to a meeting with an unknown number of persons in an unknown location…?"

_'Again?'_ Jim grinned, then shrugged at his mental addition to Spock's query.

"It's this kind of stuff that makes my life interesting." He could see Sarek readying a reply, and, as Sarek was freaking terrifying when provoked, Jim rushed to interrupt, "In all fairness, so did you two."

Both men went still, thinking it over. Jim happily wasted a few moments imagining the cogs turning noisily in their heads as they tried to rationalize their decisions. Sarek spoke first. "…Logical."

His son nodded slightly. "Indeed." Both men sounded rather rueful.

A cheerful voice sounded from behind the group. "Kirk!" Tishri cried, "_Two _Vulcans? Horrible turnout! For shame, for shame!"

The human turned and smiled at the approaching politico. "It's better than you'd've managed, so shut up, you. Besides, they're my favorite."

Tishri halted right in front of the blonde and peered over his shoulder. "Will they suit?" she asked in a faux-serious tone.

Jim turned and solemnly looked the two up and down. Spock, who'd had this done to him before on away missions, just raised an eyebrow and huffed ever-so-slightly. Sarek looked almost comically, subtly lost.

The Andorian's tone turned inquisitive. "So, who…?"

"Ambassador Sarek, this is Tishri. Commander Spock, this is… well, she's still Tishri."

Tishri squinted at the Commander. "He doesn't look human to _me_. Why does everyone make such a fuss?"

"It is most likely the result of the astounding levels of bigotry present in an unfortunate number of beings, many of whom enjoy considering themselves sentient."

Sarek looked scandalized, but Tishri and Kirk both burst out laughing.

"Where did you _find _him?" she asked, "He's fantastic!"

"He found me, actually. I cheated on his test, and he hauled me up in front of the Admiralty."

Tishri was beaming. "_He did not._"

"He did. When I was a cadet, of course."

The Andorian had stars in her eyes, "Gods, I can see it now… You, being an ass, him, being just as –,"

Sarek eyed his son, "Captain Kirk, you are the cadet who broke the Kobayashi Maru? I had been informed –,"

Whatever Sarek had been informed of, it would have to wait. The Thakahla's leaders had just walked out of the hander in full formal Andorian regalia, which, to a human, meant that Jim would have to try and reason with multiple men in tights.

The group of three pure Andorians stopped in front of the decidedly more mixed pack of four. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with us," the first said.

Sarek took charge, "Thank you for hosting this conference. I hope that a satisfactory agreement can and will be reached."

Jim took the following split second of silence to thank various deities that Sarek had diplomatic training, because it'd only just entered his mind that _negotiations _meant _diplomacy._ And, like, _manners _and shit. Dooooomed. Doooooomed he was.

The group of three nodded, and Jim noticed suddenly that no one'd bowed like usual. Hummm. "We, also, wish for an acceptable compromise," responded the apparent leader the leaders. "I am Shan. Please follow me. A room has been has been reserved for us."

Sarek nodded – he would be the leader of the… _gaggle_, Jim decided, Sarek was the leader of the _gaggle_ of four – and the seven all walked past the hanger into a hallway with doors running down its sides. The stopped at the one marked '319'.

Inside, there was the dreaded elliptical table. A circular table was fine, but there was a head and a foot to an oval one, meaning a short furious burst of awkwardness from the visiting group as they silently fought over where to sit.

Rectangular conference tables have been known to start wars.

Sarek and Tishri seemed to know this, and preemptively panicked and froze just inside the door. Spock just looked at Jim for direction. The Andorian leaders sat down.

Jim hesitantly sat across the leader of leaders – Shan, or Sharon, something with a 'sh' and an 'ah' – and Spock placed himself to his right. Sarek parked himself next to his son, and Tishri took the chair to Jim's left. Thus poised, Kirk looked expectantly to the Andorians across the faux wood.

"The Thakahla does not support the occupation of our planed by Vulcans," Shan (?) started, "but we realize your need to reside _somewhere _while your defenses are being upgraded. We would just rather it not be _here_. We offer to pay for your transport to Terra. There is sure to be room there."

"Before we talk about any money, why exactly do you want the Vulcans to leave?" Kirk asked, "They're known for being quiet, clean, and fastidious. They barely even _eat _for god's sakes: it's not like they're using up resources.

"And if this were just about there being foreigners on Andoria, you wouldn't have singled out the Vulcans. But this is the argument that you've been pushing in all of your press statements." Jim took a moment to be pleased with himself, and then caught Spock's subtly impressed expression out of the corner of his eyes, which didn't help at all.

The man to Shan's (? [_'Fuckit, he's Shan whether he likes it or not'_]) left raised a finger to speak. "We believe that Vulcans are the people who alter their environments most drastically to suit their needs. We are concerned that these alterations would include a radical change in our culture."

Jim filed those two sentences away for future use in explaining the anti-human argument after First Contact while Sarek responded. "Have you any proof of this trend?"

"It is your influence on the Federation Constitution that has been most notable. Its construction and organization is almost identical to –,"

"The Terran Constitution," Tishri interrupted.

The man blinked. "What?"

Kirk was incredulous, and was quickly getting upset, "The United Earth Constitution. The one based on the United States of America's Constitution. The foundation of the Constitution of the United Federation of Planets. America's was signed in 1787. You've _got _to've heard of it, it's what the Federation's government is _based on!"_

Shan shook his head. He clearly had no idea what the human was talking about. "I have never heard of this document, either. Have you a copy?"

Kirk's jaw hit the floor, "How could you never –!"

Spock cut him off before Jim created an Incident. "I have a transcription on my PADD. Allow me some time to upload it." He took out a small personal computer from his pocket and began inputting commands.

Tishri had her head in her hands, and Kirk was mouthing nonsense. Nothing's quite so disturbing as realizing that the people you're fighting with are arguing about a _completely different _thing than you thought they were.

"Here. A copy of the United Earth Constitution." Spock stood slightly to hand the PADD across the table. The three Thakahla liaisons bent over it with interest. Soon, looks of consternation and surprise were painted on their faces. Whatever argument's they'd planned had just been rendered void.

A knock sounded on the room's door. Tishri stood to open it, but the distracted Shan waved her down. "Come," he called, still engrossed in the PADD's screen.

A clearly uncomfortable young Andorian poked his head in. He couldn't've been more than twenty. "Is this where the Thakahlan people are meeting with the Captain Kirk?"

Kirk nodded. "Yeah, that's us."

The young man laughed under his breath. "Ok. Ok, guys," he called over his shoulder, back into the hall, "they're in room 319."

Spock straightened and leaned way back in his chair, trying to see into the hall. "Excuse me, do you have permission to be in this area?"

The man looked slightly frantically from the hall, and back to Spock. "Um… I'm with some guys… they have clearance… but they're in the other hanger, I think…"

"I will assist you. I would like to check their identification. Captain?"

Kirk nodded, still looking at Shan's group, "Go ahead Spock. You have your communicator?"

"Yes sir." The hybrid stood and turned to the young man, who now looked vaguely panicked.

"Sir, really, there is no need, they will be here in a moment…"

The Commander narrowed his eyes. "I would like to meet these people. Where do you believe them to be?" His voice got harder to hear as he moved into the hall. The Andorian backed out ahead of him.

"Sir, it is ok, you need not…" his voice petered off as the door closed quietly. Kirk's eyes narrowed.

He leaned over to Tishri. "Who do you think…?" he started to whisper.

"Low-level aide, a page, probably. Don't worry. It'll be fine." Kirk looked back to the door.

"I'm going to –,"

"He'll be fine. He just wanted to get your autograph, he's nervous that Spock's gonna blow his cover. Don't worry."

"But how'd he know where we were going to be? _I _didn't know where we were meeting, _you _didn't know –,"

"JIM! RUN!" Spock shouted.

There were gunshots, real ones, from an old-style projectile weapon, and Sarek shot to his feet.

"Spock!" Jim was already halfway out the door, charging his phaser, when he felt the cold press of an old-fashioned muzzle against his cheek.

"We're of the Nahka Comentha," a man growled, "and we want only you and the Vulcan."

Kirk looked out the corner of his eye and saw an enormous Andorian man holding an honest-to-god combustion weapon.

Sarek, who'd stopped short when Jim'd been halted, now casually reached over the human's shoulder to grab the blue man's neck. The man had time to squeak, "Hey –!" before he fell unconscious to the ground.

"I will go after my son –,"

"The _hell _you will." Jim tugged the rifle out of the attacker's hands, "You know how to use this?"

"Why would I know how to use a rifle?"

Kirk moved to that he was standing next to the Vulcan, shoulder to shoulder. "The sight is here. Put that to your eye, pull the trigger, and hope it hits. It's old, so allow for that. Try to hit 'em over the head with the butt – this bit here – first, it's quieter, quicker, and you don't need ammo."

He shoved the gun into the ambassador's hands. "And what am I to do with this information?"

"Stay here, protect the others. I'm going after Spock, I have more training. We'll try to get to the intercom to warn everyone else. They'll've taken Spock's communicator, if yelled."

Sarek nodded shortly. "Agreed. Good fortunes."

Kirk nodded. "You too." He ran towards the end of the hall, phaser finally charged, and hoped that he wasn't too late.

.bdobd.


	11. Bullets of Words, ViceVersa

A/N:

Vulcans have better senses of hearing, smell, and sight than humans do. Andorians have very advanced senses of night vision because they evolved as a primarily subterranean species.

.bdobd.

Meanwhile, Spock was crouched behind a support beam in hanger H, wondering how Jim and his father would succeed against a heavily armed Andorian assailant. It was unlikely they would get much warning, unless they had exited immediately after he had called for them to run…

"Come on, little lizard," one of the henchmen sneered, "we'll find you soon."

_'Unlikely.'_ They might know the area well, but he knew how to hide. They – apparently – did not, so they had no idea where to look.

A phaser blast knocked the closest man unconscious. The second turned at the first's squawk, but was shot before he could react. Careful, slow footsteps drew closer the Vulcan's hiding place. They were human steps.

James Kirk looked cautiously behind the support beam. He grinned when he saw Spock. "Commander. It seems you have a talent for trouble."

The hybrid raised an eyebrow. "One I acquired from you, I assume."

Jim was still beaming, "Probably. I'm guessing they took your communicator?"

"The younger Andorian who came to the conference room shot and destroyed it when I attempted to call you in warning."

Jim nodded. "'S not unexpected. Do you know where the intercom system is?"

An unusual question. "No. I have not had time to familiarize myself with the layout of the building."

"Alright. I've been in these before; they're all about the same. We'll find it." Spock blinked. When had the captain learned the general layout of Andorian docking stations?

"Sir?" Jim, who was still priming his weapon, did not look up.

"You'll have to go unarmed: I'm a better shot than you, and I think their guns are tracked." The henchmen's weapons were most likely being monitored to record their efficiency, and who possessed it, but it did not make the prospect of going unarmed any more attractive.

_'Illogical.' _Spock nodded and stood, and was grateful when Jim decided not to comment on his First Officer's undesirable hesitation. It would be unreasonable to assume that he had not recognized the motion other humans seemed to find invisible.

Jim strode purposefully deeper into the hall, away from the main concourse. "These stations are built in concentric circles, with the conference rooms ringing the edge. The PA room's usually in the middle of the whole thing. We're all the way to thee right," the blonde said over his shoulder, "so we go this way. There should be signs once we get to the center."

The two officers reached the end of the corridor, where a lone door stood: number 299. Jim flattened himself against the wall on the side of its hinges, and motioned for Spock to move to the opposite. "If anyone comes through slowly," Jim mouthed, "take him out. If he's going quick I'll shoot him."

The Commander nodded, and Jim flicked open the door.

No one came.

Another minute. Still, no guards. "Odd," Jim frowned, "you'd think they'd've posted _someone_." He moved to the middle of the open portal, ignoring Spock's motions to stay put. "Ah, _shit_." The human groaned. "A cavern. That's just perfect."

Spock, who had obediently stayed flat against the wall, looked into the open doorway.

It was clear that Jim's previous statement was meant to be ironic. His description of the station's layout had assumed a set of hallways connecting the conference rooms to the center of the structure, like the spokes of an antique wheel.

What was beyond the door was not a cave, exactly. It was, however, readily apparent where the name had originated. There was a large space that was the height and depth of the Academy's auditorium. Its ceiling and floor was made of what looked to be raw rock – the creators of the structure did not seem concerned with the aesthetics of such a strange place.

But there was lighting, from inexpensive lanterns bolted to the walls. It was of poor quality, the center of the hall appeared pitch black, but there was some means of illumination, so some persons were expected to traverse across the space.

"Jim, what is this structure's purpose?"

The human had been sighing up at the yellowish light fixtures, and Spock wondered what the hall looked like to him, with his sub-par optical nerves. "Well, at least we know we're going the right way."

"Excuse me?" All of the data that he had observed pointed to a very opposing conclusion.

"These were originally storage spots, but then some genius realized that they're ridiculously hard to lead an army through, and now they're put in to stop invaders from attacking." He kicked at the ground, whose raw surface looked treacherously uneven. "It's hard to hold a formal formation in here, the terrain's all wrong. Of course, the guys who work here know how to get around just fine."

The commander peered into the blackness. "What are we to do?"

"Keep moving, of course. It's a circular building, the worst that happens is that we'll miss the center and wind up on the opposite side." He began to advance into the yawning expanse of blackness.

Spock followed.

.bdobd.

Progress was helped by Jim's excellent orienting skills and hindered by the unfortunate fact that Vulcans were not designed for cavern dwelling. They did eventually find a metal door imbedded into a cold stone wall.

"Shall I open it, sir?" Spock asked. Jim shook his head.

"Do the same thing we did the last time. Get against that wall, and take out anyone going slow." The two pressed themselves into their assigned rocks. Jim flicked open the door.

This time, someone came. Moving slowly, a station worker peered through the door that he'd been told was always locked. Spock quirked an eyebrow, _'Him?'_

It was fortunate that Jim could read him so well. The human nodded glumly. The worker was probably innocent, but in the present situation no one could be trusted. The movement caught the Andorian's attention, but before he could register that_ the_ Captain Kirk was standing to his left, an alien hand had descended on his neck. He fell to the stone floor with a dull _thunk._

Jim winced sympathetically, then looked carefully into the hall. He nodded to Spock, and they both trotted into the lit corridor.

'1009' was the number on the door nearest them. Jim grinned.

"The stuff in the middle always starts with '10'," he explained. "We're really close."

Spock looked back on the feet of what Doctor McCoy would have called an 'ill fated' worker. "What shall we do with him?"

"Leave him. He'll wake up soon enough." Jim turned to the end of the hall. "I doubt there's more than a dozen people in this entire section. Not many will've been told how to get in."

That statement was very unlike the captain. He was most often the first to think of other's comfort. "It is unfortunate that it was necessary to render unconscious a person who may have known the location of the room that we are seeking. I have the ability to wake him back up: it is possible that he could assist us."

Spock began to regret the emotional offer as soon as he heard it spoken aloud, but the captain did not seem to mind. "No, we can't risk him setting off an alarm. And we're way more likely to be from an attacking group than from a group of victims."

A very logical statement, totally within reason. _'Meditation is in order.'_ "I hear no other beings in the halls directly adjacent to us."

Jim nodded. "Ok. The intercom should be in room 2 or 3. They'll be people inside, but they've probably soundproofed the rooms."

Spock suddenly, deeply wished for a tricorder. "Will they be armed?"

"They'll have weapons in the room, but not near enough to grab quickly. As long as we surprise then we'll be fine." Jim checked both ends of the intersecting corridor, then started towards his left.

He halted suddenly at the entrance to another row of doors. "You hear anything?"

"No. But if they have soundproofed the rooms, then that observation means very little." It was not pleasant, having to admit to this shortcoming. The Captain did not seem to mind, however, and took off down the hall.

1005. 1006. 1007. 1008. Then, on the other side, 1001, 1002, 2003. The human stopped outside 1002. "Anything?"

"This room has also been soundproofed. Any response would be irrelevant."

"No, I trust your judgment."

He had been asking an opinion? "Than my opinion is that it would be that, as we are unable to observe anything from this vantage point, we change our position."

"You mean break the door."

Spock nodded slowly. "That would… be one way of changing our position, yes."

Jim snorted. "Right. Ok. This door'll be locked, whether there's people inside or not. I can break in. You take this," the surprised Commander caught the tossed phaser, "and if anyone opens it from the inside, shoot. At them. Not me."

Before Spock could begin to protest – both the plan, and Jim's apparent distrust of his aim – Jim began entering a complex series of digits into the door's keypad. Somewhat at a loss, and thrice-damned before he would admit it, Spock stood back and aimed the phaser at the level of an average Andorian's torso.

There was a small slicking noise at the other side of the door that was loud enough for even Jim to hear. The human froze and abandoned the pad, backing behind Spock. The hinges turned slowly.

The door was less than halfway open when Spock shot. The employee, clipped on the side of the skull, fell with a thud and a clatter. There was a sudden violent commotion from inside, and someone else shot into the hall, just missing the pair.

Jim grabbed the phaser from Spock and rushed the door, throwing it open and revealing the three other workers, one of whom had a large and unattractive electronic gun primed towards his captain. Spock went for her as Jim shot the other two unconscious.

Just before the Vulcan managed to grab the Andorian's neck, she squeezed off a charge that somehow missed Jim and slammed into the wall behind him.

It punched a hole in the metal, leaving two stunned employees in the now-connected room free to observe the chaos that had previously been concealed by the soundproofing foam.

They shouted and lunged to where they assumedly kept their weapons, and Jim had to wedge his shoulders into the hole and shoot them before they could prime them.

Jim then hauled himself out of the wall and stood, panting, as Spock waited for something else to go wrong.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, the commander found the presence of mind to look around.

"Jim," he started, "we are in the wrong room."

"Wha –?" the blonde wearily glanced about. It was true. They were surrounded by security screens, not microphones. "Ah, _shit,_" he moaned, and stuck his head back through the hole in the wall. "It's this one. We were one off. I'll go out and break the lock on –,"

Spock picked up the Andorian's abandoned gun. "Stand back."

"What are you –? Oh. Well, yeah, that'll work too." He moved obediently into a corner as Spock shot at the wall until the hole was large enough to walk through. Jim peered inside.

"Yeah, this is defiantly it."

"Are there any more workers?"

"No, there were just these guys." Jim stepped over the two ill fated employees and started tapping at their instrumentation. Spock walked through the wall and had to clamber inelegantly over the remains of a swivel chair; Jim had apparently missed a shot and destroyed its base.

Jim was deftly entering codes into the computer terminal. In Andorian. A microphone slid quietly out of the black paneling. A question flashed on the computer's screen, 'Record and play message? Y or N,' it asked.

Spock only knew how to read such a message because of his position of Linguistics Professor inside the Academy, how did the captain know of the finer points of the Andorian Principle alphabet?

Jim pressed the equivalent of a 'Y' key and leaned closer the machine's pickup. "This is Captain Kirk of the Enterprise. Armed militants are holding Ambassador Sarek, Liaison Tishri, and three leaders of the Thakahla party hostage in room 319, hanger G. Assistance is needed. Please respond."

Jim tapped the 'End' key, and the microphone slid back into the desk. "And now we wait."

Spock looked at the five employees lying the two destroyed rooms, all unconscious. "Captain, how will we explain…?"

Jim stared sadly down at the man at his feet. "Collateral damage."

"Will that be an appropriate reason?"

The blonde sighed. "Unfortunately."

.bdobd.

It took the police forty minutes to find Jim and Spock after they'd finished arresting the Nahka Comentha people.

Somewhere along the way they'd picked up a photographer, who'd taken a picture of Jim looking very Captainly, Spock looking very Appropriately-Staid-For-A-Vulcan, and the five employees looking adoringly at the two officers.

That must have been really hard, actually, since all five had promised to sue both officers for mental and physical damages. They'd been glaring_ daggers._

So everyone'd been escorted back into the hanger, and it tuned out that once you got a gun in Sarek's hand he turned into one hell of a BAMF. He'd single-handedly held off two of the Comentha's wackos, while managing to keep a group of four Andorians calm, which, come to think of it, was probably the most difficult task.

He was mum on how he'd done it, of course. Wouldn't tell a soul. He'd pulled Spock aside for a moment right after they'd left the cavern, but Spock wouldn't say what his father had told him, just given Jim an eye-smile when he'd asked.

Anyway, Sarek had done all of this while looking – but not feeling, the man'd insisted stubbornly – like he was about to shrivel and die and collapse into a small gray pile of _dust._

And at some point the Thakahla leaders were all looking very impressed with him, and Tishri was looking happy to be alive, and apparently that made for a very good magazine cover because the next week's edition of _Federation Weekly_ had that picture on the front.

The article inside was even better though. Some intern had decided that Sarek (being as close to death as he was, the poor dear) was the real hero of the entire debacle. Jim thought that was really kind of cool, actually: let's give the Vulcans some credit for once! But he had been worried that Tishri'd be annoyed.

However, when Jim had called Tishri about it back on the Enterprise, she'd just grinned and said that she was still not very popular with the government, so they'd just left her out of it.

In fact, she was such a political landmine that she'd been given a job way out in the Lorentian system: the First chair of the Starbase XI.

"But, wait, what about Mom?"

"Did you look at page 24? It talks about her there." Jim took the magazine off of the desk and flipped to page 24 – he'd been so wrapped up in the main article he hadn't read the first half.

"_Winona Kirk: New Andorian Ambassador?_

_"What?"_

Tishri beamed. "I know, right? Apparently, when they were researching you for the main bit, they pulled up your mother's old Fleet record" The Andorian flipped through her own copy of the magazine, "I had no idea your mother was the Andorian liaison for the_ Kelvin_, I only knew about the Europa thing.

Jim was stunned. "She was liaison for like five minutes! I mean, she was good, but –!"

"She's popular. She's connected to you. She has a record. She's the new ambassador."

"Wait. Here it says the discussion's being 'discussed'."

"Oh, please." The Andorian rolled her eyes. "You're smart. If the Admiralty even took the reporter's call, she's got the job."

Jim stared at the glossy article. "Well… Good for her, I guess."

Tishri flapped a hand. "Oh, don't worry. It'll work out. Always does."

"All that changes is whether it works out for us or for them."

The politician beamed. "See? I knew you'd come around."

Jim shuddered. "Oh, gods no. Don't scare me like that."

Tishri laughed. "Hey, did'ya hear about Leighton?"

"Christ, I haven't heard his name in ages!"

"I know, right? He's just been convicted on about ten counts of corruption."

The human's eyebrows rose. "Ten? That many?"

"Yeah, well the judge hated him."

"What about Arya? She was pretty deep in all of that."

"Oh, I didn't tell you! She's a city planner!" Tishri was obviously very proud. She was also completely dodging the question. "Doesn't know a thing about it, of course, but then, neither did the other guy. But she'll get a good advisor and she'll be fine."

Jim was just about to get righteously angry when he realized that was, basically, the same situation he was in. Arya had Tishri, he had Pike…

"Well, that's um… Great. Good for her."

Tishri preened. "I know!" She smiled at nothing for another moment, then refocused on the human. "Hey, how're the Vulcans doing? They left a little while ago, I was at the seeing-off ceremony."

"They're good. They're on-route back to the colony, the Cardassians swore to help protect them if we promised to give them back planet 41 Beta."

"But we never even _had_ 41 Beta."

"Yeah, well. No need to remind them." The Andorian grinned.

"I knew you'd get it someday. Selective blindness, my friend." She looked down at the clock on her desk. "Shit! Listen, I've gotta go. There's a fast-food chain that wants placement, I'm meeting with them in ten."

"Alright then. Talk to you later."

"And you. Tishri out."

"Kirk out," and the connection was cut. Jim was left in his now-darkened quarters sitting in front of a comm unit, holding a limp magazine in his hands and wondering when he'd changed. He probably would've stayed there for some time if someone hadn't asked to come in.

"Enter!" he called. His doors slid open to show… Spock, of all people, looking almost as lost as Jim felt.

"Hello Cap – Jim." Jim smiled at the correction, "I just finished a conversation with my father, and did not know how to proceed," The commander looked around the room, as if he was just seeing it for the fist time. "Somehow, I came to be here, asking for entrance."

There was a long silence. Spock seemed to shake himself. "I apologize for the intrusion. I shall leave."

"No –!" Jim stood and grabbed Spock's shoulder. "I just had the same thing happen to me." He smiled weakly, "It's pretty stunning, huh?"

Spock nodded. "… Indeed." He stared at Jim's hand. The human stated and quickly removed it.

"Sorry, the whole no-touching thing." He gestured towards the bed, "Do you want to sit down?"

The Vulcan nodded and placed himself carefully on the foot of the bed. Jim just flopped backwards and hoped his head didn't hit the wall. He wound up with his torso straight and his hips twisted so that one leg dangled off the side of the bed.

He swore he could _hear_ Spock's eyebrow rise, and grinned at the ceiling. No matter.

"So, what'd Sarek say?"

"My father is now the head of Vulcan's entire diplomatic team."

"Wow. Any reason?"

"None that I can decipher, and he knows of none. Nor do any Vulcans, apparently, the request for his promotion came from the Federation and simply went uncontested."

"Probably all of that publicity. And it's not like he's unqualified."

"It is… an irrational catalyst for a promotion."

"Yup. Politics doesn't have much to do with logic."

"Apparently." Jim grinned at Spock's dry tone. "Whom were you conversing with?"

"Tishri. She's the head of Base XI now."

"What of your mother?"

"Andorian ambassador."

"Why?"

Spock was probably the only person who could ask that and not sound like he was tying to be insulting. "She was the Andorian liaison on the _Kelvin_."

"Your father's ship."

"For twelve minutes, yeah."

"Is that how you knew the layout of the docking station?"

"Wha?" Jim'd forgotten that he hadn't told Spock about that yet. "Oh, no. When I was eleven I drove a car – gorgeous old thing, Corvette, wheels and everything, it's a long story – anyway, I drove it into a quarry and got myself sent to a correctional camp off-planet.

"I was taken back from there in an Andorian transport shuttle, and when it landed we found out that my Mom didn't quite have enough money to come and pick me up yet. So I lived in the station for a while."

Spock was silent for a long while. "… Did you learn Andorian there?"

"Some slang, easy stuff. Mom taught the rest to me when I came back from camp."

"What planet was the camp on?"

Jim thought for a moment. "… Tarsus IV." He could hear Spock put the pieces together.

"You were eleven when you arrived on Tarsus IV."

"Yes."

"You were born on stardate 2233.04."

"Yep."

There was a pause that felt very long. "The Kodos Genocide occurred the summer of the year 2244."

"Yep."

No one said anything for a while, again. "You are a survivor of the Kodos Genocide."

Jim stared hard at the ceiling. The metal panels wouldn't judge. "Yes."

Jim's stomach curdled as Spock said nothing. If he lost his First now, after everything –

A light touch, on his ankle.

Jim lifted his head to look at his leg. Spock's hand was lying at the top of Jim's right boot. Not really doing anything. Just sitting there, politely. The Vulcan himself was looking determinedly at the opposite wall. He had a very strong un-expression on his face.

Jim put his head back down.

Spock's hand was very warm. Vulcans, higher body temperature and all that.

Jim was starting to zone off rather comfortably when Spock finally spoke. He couldn't quite pinpoint what emotion was making slightly strangled like that, but there was definitely something there.

"The situation… With Tishri. And Leighton. And my father, and you mother… It is… The mission was successful?"

Jim propped himself up on his elbows. Spock was still facing the desk, but he seemed to be looking lower, at the chair's legs now. "Well… Everyone got a job. Except for Leighton, he was a dick. But everyone's working somewhere."

He felt like he was reassuring the Vulcan. Reassuring him of what?

"Yet… Tishri and Arya… They were corrupt."

"Technically? So'm I."

Spock's head snapped up, and he finally looked at Jim. "How have you been corrupted."

Structured like a question, spoken like a command. "Arya's in office because Tishri liked her, right? And Arya doesn't know anything about the office she's in. But neither did I when I started. I'm just winging it with some good guys behind me, mostly because of a higher-up who liked me. Pike's my Tishri."

Spock seemed displeased with the comparison, in his subtle, Spockish way. "You have genuine talent. Arya has displayed none."

"No one thought I was anything except for Pike, and that was only because of my father. And you never know: maybe Arya's true calling was to be city planner, and she just didn't know it."

"If that is true, than I, too, am corrupt."

Jim shut up. Spock? Corrupt? Earth's sky was green and Vulcans were flighty. "That's not true."

"Neither is your comparison. Arya convinced Tishri to assist her, Pike offered you his."

"I'm only captain because my father was one of the only fatalities of the _Kelvin_." Jim said with finality. No way to argue with _that_ statement.

Spock cocked his head slightly to one side. "You are a very good captain."

Jim blinked. "Oh. Thank you."

"No thanks are needed for a simple statement of facts." Jim could feel his face heat. Spock politely looked back to the wall.

He looked back down at his First. "Anything else you wanted?"

Jim did a mental head-desk when he realized that that'd sounded like a dismissal. He sat up and faced the wall with Spock, which was just as boring as he'd thought it was.

Spock's hand had transferred from his ankle in the shift. It was oddly disappointing. The Vulcan gave Jim a sidelong look and looked at his reclaimed hands, which were folded carefully in his lap.

"No. I believe…. I am content. Thank you." Spock stood and bowed, causing Jim to freak out, just a little, that he could be leaving so quickly.

"Shall I leave now, Captain?"

Jim flailed about for a suitable excuse, and then thanked whatever deities that sprang to mind that that chessboard was still on his desk. "You know," he started, "last time we played chess, it didn't go very far."

Spock nodded solemnly. "Indeed. A most regrettable state of affairs."

Jim grinned. "Would you like to continue the game?"

Another grave nod. "It appears to be the only way to rectify the situation."

The blonde pulled the board off of the desk and set it on the bed. He was overcome with the sudden, irresistible urge to tease the Vulcan. "You know Spock, you're getting more emotional with every day."

His First blinked. "Captain?"

"Inability to finish games of logic, surprise visits… you're becoming very excitable."

Spock placed himself on the black side of the board. "Captain, if you continue to insult me I will have to leave," he responded, setting up his pawns.

Jim ducked his head to hide his smile. "Of course, Commander. Won't do it again."

Spock's silence was the just about the smuggest thing, ever.

Jim couldn't help but laugh.

.bdobd.

END

.bdobd.


End file.
